quasi_sean

followed for hrx.

swallow. the sights are something--

sure, i'm eating these puncture pills for the moments and looking for the open door to make me something that is completely unlike the cloud that never seems to get to that beautiful gray--

space. backwards. mail. male. i have a thought. one that will not be shattered by the sounds of the fire and bending brain. i'm w/like everyone that needs a good cry for the showers and splendid how you thought to join me in my darkest cave, huddle beside me, wrap your arms around a million miles of sadness and squeeze hard and maybe i'll burst & there will be a million erections in our honor. pleased for the time--when time begins to hover around that first kiss and won't let go. where i like to be--where everything seems to make the most sense. stop me if--

thereisnoroomleftforanothertragicpoem.
ifthereisnothinglefttosay.