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Some things.

 

Getting high.

She walked in the dim red light of the club, time slowing from the weed. Sitting in the chair she ate her voice and words she'd said to prove herself. And the kiss. Real and sloppy. Hardly noteworthy, became the drive. The green paint peeled and bathtub remained clean. A trinket for sake of remembrance stored away for when the memory fails to see the face any longer. Wake up.

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morninglight
morninglight
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34 days ago    Reply
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just don't eat that paint chip! Bah Bah!!
 


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