The snow out of my hair. I get up and change the song that spins.
Every month leads me away. Every moment of laughter I grow. I'm tired. I've been trying for a bit to believe that there is something greater. There really isn't. You fill the gaps. That's what I do. Fill the gaps. But at the end of the day, it's all the same. The memory of a life that wasn't. Quiet reckoning.
I remember laughter.
I like to keep some things to my self. Self. My.
I was pretty when he held my head in his hands and asked for me to not leave - no matter what. It was simple then, when it was codependent. Addicted to being. Fuck.
The most wretched story of all time. Love.
