[To the concrete man: all I care for is...where you've been hiding.]
There's a tune, but
it doesn't matter. What matters is that every day I torment the fuck out of myself. Not with pictures or with soft bullets and former great heights and old dying colonies. With one simple thought. A fact.
I made a monumental mistake that has cost me the most important and meaningful relationship my existence has ever known.
Many times every day, I remind myself that I did this, or I am reminded by some outside force that I did this. The despair is that wriggling snake in my ribcage.
You're lost to me, and me is so lost to myself.
it doesn't matter. What matters is that every day I torment the fuck out of myself. Not with pictures or with soft bullets and former great heights and old dying colonies. With one simple thought. A fact.
I made a monumental mistake that has cost me the most important and meaningful relationship my existence has ever known.
Many times every day, I remind myself that I did this, or I am reminded by some outside force that I did this. The despair is that wriggling snake in my ribcage.
You're lost to me, and me is so lost to myself.