And as the elevator descents, passing the second floor, and the first floor, going even father down, I realize that the money doesn't matter. That all that does is that I want to see the worst
Look how black the sky is, the writer said. I made it that way.
My pain is constant and sharp, and I do not hope for a better world for anyone.
I don't know why I write what I write.
Adjust my dreams for me.
Disappear Here. The syringe fills with blood. You're a beautiful boy and that's all that matters. Wonder if he's for sale. People are afraid to merge. To merge.