It's funny how things happen Always at the perfect moment Whether you think it's perfect or not Soon you see why that happened And why that happened when it happened You might hate that it happened But it happened for reason Just like the weather And all of the seasons
I read a story once About a bug that crawls into people's ears and lays eggs in their brains Ever since then I have to cover my ears to fall asleep It's funny that people think that way That they matter That a story WILL happen to them Because at the end of the day It might
A girl sits on a bed in a room. The room smells like cat **** and Fabuloso (whatever the name of the yellow scent is). The black-out curtains are open, letting the moon shine onto the bottom of the bed. The lavender fitted sheet has come undone.
The girl hasn't slept in a day. She hasn't eaten in two days. There is an empty handle of Jack that she bought three days ago. The scars on her leg were four days old, But she reopened them three hours ago.
The girl had chestnut hair that flowed, cascading to the small of her back, but she cut it herself, drunk in the bathroom. The girl has chestnut hair that spills in a mass of tangles to her shaking shoulders, uneven, moving with her as she readjusts.