LJ is dead
I haven't thought of writing anything in here in more than months, less than years.
You still possess me, but why is the night as dark? Why are the lights as blinding when I come around the bend with open eyes? Bright, Bubbly smiles are faint window paintings, on mornings that are below thirty two degrees.
That never happens.
This never happens.
But it is happening now.
You still possess me, but why is the night as dark? Why are the lights as blinding when I come around the bend with open eyes? Bright, Bubbly smiles are faint window paintings, on mornings that are below thirty two degrees.
That never happens.
This never happens.
But it is happening now.