I would write, really I would, except my thoughts go something like this:

fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck you body.

fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck you heart.

fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck you mind.

Originally posted at Dreamwidth. Comment there, or feel free to comment here.

I sob in Chance's arms and tell him I need infatuation, I cling to it, because I can't get the peace I so desperately crave anywhere else ( Read more... )