(no subject)

[the_spaghetti_o]

I'm sure you can remember a time when you were riding a stallion. You had on chaps of chocolate suede and a fitting gun in your holster. You were riding fast and hard, your horse was at a canter. The breeze and sun together were like 10,000 angels kissing your neck. You stopped to sip some water from the stream nearby and your gun went off. You shot yourself in the foot.
Picture me there, now. I have silt on my knees and an unholy water on my face. I am bleeding to death.
This is me. This is me right now and yesterday and tomorrow.

Love is so fragile I could laugh in its face.