September, Saturday morning

[athena25]

The sun filters through the wooden blinds in my bedroom making everything a zebra striped far-too-bright glow. Half of my face is sluggish, the side I've been sleeping on. I've got a disgusting cold and my throat is swollen. But I have to get up. The light is too strong and it shouts of morning, of another day, of all the things piling up that I

Comments

[mfl]

"I'll try to never walk down this street again in case I see the beds paved over"

I avoid revisiting where i have lived for similar reasons

hugs for other stuff