Love that is dead is like used carpentry, zebra walls tell me their story, for the bird in who's town? July. I'm so ******* broken.
Losing feels like gaining. Gaining more courage for the inevitable. I've crossed out September and put up walls. I can't listen to myself anymore.  Abundance is waste now  , I have everything I don't need and want.  I forget the point? It's still fine now, or I stay together for the pain