(no subject)
I'm dying but I'm not quite dead yet.
My chest is deteriorating.
Not my breasts but the actual bones.
I have pleurisy and it kills you from the inside out.
But sometimes I think it's just a broken heart.
Who smashed it up?
I don't know.
I'm crying.
And I'm still muse-less.
So here's what I'll tell you.
I am a very sad girl who puts on a happy face as often as she can.
If I could wish for one thing I would wish for true love.
But I am more than willing to settle for a relationship of conveneince.
Someone to touch.
And blow.
And bite.
Some one to buy presents for.
Someone to dream about.
Someone to sleep over.
And someone who will feel the same way about me.
No more men in denial.
No more wasted years.
And no no no
no
more heroin veins.
Happy fucking new year, everyone.
Try not to get gang banged.
-x-