lily

still got these headaches. maybe its not hypochondria. i'm gonna be an old shopping cart lady in some random city collecting your garbage and still getting these strange premonitions. it was strange to walk out of the hospital and see light again. it was like i got institutionalized at the hospital, the smell of sickness lingering in the hallways. people who have walked this planet for so many years let out faint screams while they dreamed, so scared of the afterlife. I woke up to this song that screamed my name and i smiled. didn't know i was anything in your chaotic reality.
i feel alot of physical pain still. I whispered little poems and prayers into the dying ladies ears down the hall while she slept and i left her my molded flowers, struggling to breathe.
I am lost now. twirling around the streets again. now i'm really heading south. maybe new orleans. fuckin gypsy laws.
quit the nicotine and my track marks are just little bumps, traces like a long lost story of where i've come from.
They shot me up with morphine at the hospital. the lady was like "i'm gonna go real slow to avoid that nasty rush feeling most people get"
I giggled. a girl in love with nasty things.
Fuck the cold.
Love, Lily