chillsas the horn of the trains greet the early houri lay under a soft lamp lightrunning into memoriesgrabbing anything worth writingchillssome corner..
im lost in a turbulenceblinded eyesi can do nothingbut hold on to this cigarettered flame anchoring the nightim freezing inthe hot airrising from the ..
she gave her heart uponly to receive shards in returnicy glass cutting in to her palms as she clutched onfuriously grasping the smooth glassher finger..
uncertaintyunclear emotions thoughtsflooding emotions and an intense desire to ignore it allyet through all this i feel emptydeceaseda voyer to my bod..