About Me
If I gave you pretty enough words. could you paint a picture of us that works.
an emphasis on function rather than design.aren't you tired cause I will carry you, on a broken back and blown out knees,I have been where you are for a while.
Aren't you tired of being weak?Such rage that you could scream.the stars right out of the sky And destroy the prettiest starry night. every evening that I die. I am exhumed just a little less human and a lot more bitter and cold.
