December 2011
3 posts
“Does it break my heart, of course, every moment of every day, into more pieces...”
– Jonathan Safran Foer (via black-wolves)
going for the gold, bright eyes
There’s a voice on the phone telling what had happened, some kind of confusion more like a disaster. And it wondered how you were left unaffected, but you had no knowledge. No, the chemicals covered you. So a jury was formed as more liquor was poured. No need for conviction, they’re not thirsting for justice. But I slept with the lies I keep inside my head. I found out I was guilty. I...