Sad Labels:
retrospect
,
sad
Dirty fudgesicles make this coldness a religion. Arrows at the back of her throat point in every direction. He could've saved me. Had he only saved himself first.
Not that I needed to be saved.
Or wanted to.
I could stand up every domino and still not be dsiappointed when they fall.
Ice cubes melting.
Just like we do.