I'm having fun playing dead while I'm keeping my head straight.
Is that hilarious or what? What's funny, is I'd rise for the right hurt.
You've detached yourself, though. Your words sound like grey sleep
within the walls I repaint, day after day when I wake, with the color
you turn away yet still absorb, like there's no short supply. My brain
works for crackers and runs on want that's begun drying.
Jul 24, 2017
Jul 24, 2017 at 4:52 PM UTC
I'm having fun playing dead while I'm keeping my head straight.
Is that hilarious or what? What's funny, is I'd rise for the right hurt.
You've detached yourself, though. Your words sound like grey sleep
within the walls I repaint, day after day when I wake, with the color
you turn away yet still absorb, like there's no short supply. My brain
works for crackers and runs on want that's begun drying.
I'm getting tired of the people I work with. They have it all together. And meanwhile. I just need to **** it up. There are things worse in life than loneliness, way ******* worse.
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