Jun 4, 2010


fuck the act of dreaming and the disgusting intuition it casts the next morning.

the smell of your skin
the shape of your lips
the sound of your voice
the never ending laughter
the soul piercing stares
the love

the bitterness on your breath
the scowl on your face
the absence of your voice
the uncomfortable chortle
the sick, rattling eyes
the hate

natural history museum.

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