and now i turn to my term project. but first

[explodingboy]

I still hear trains at night, when the wind is right. I remember everything, lick and thread this string that will never mend you or tailor more than a memory of a kitchen floor, or the fire-door that we kept propping open. And I love this place; the enormous sky, and the faces, hands that I'm haunted by, so why can't I forgive these buildings,

Comments

[scpiratepunk]

hey there, it looks like you havent written for a while...im not even sure if you'll get this. i really like this though :) have you ever read "the perks of being a wallflower?"