(no subject)
she went out into the rain carrying her bicycle chain. and her feet were the pedals while her appetite steered, and after that she just followed her nose. and fate is not just whose cooking smells good, but which way the wind blows. she layed down in her party dress and never got up. needless to say, she missed the party. she just got sad. then she got stuck. she was wincing like something brittle, trying hard to bend. she was numb with the terror of losing her best friend. we never see things changing, we only see them ending. and some vicious whispering voice kept saying... "you have no choice."
...when i look at you, i squint. you are that beautiful.
