cheap wine tides me over as i go against the grain, walk along the side of the train tracks and wish i was brave enough to stride down the middle wish i was brave enough to admit out loud that i’d love to just stand there embrace the black coal smoke with open arms breathe it in and never exhale again
and i don’t mean that in a suicidal way (i swear) i just mean the thought crosses my mind too often not to mean something
there’s probably a word for this feeling but i’ve got nobody to tell it to