I hope I never lose my ability to keep laughing at this crazy fucked up beautiful world we live in.
What kind of mascara hides the dead in the eyes, again?
Your cloud of smoke, or mine?
Life. The original dark comedy.
Some words feel like candy in my mouth. A salt water taffy to poke with my tongue and savor the way it lingers.
Tell me a story with only the beating of your heart.
Blurt and run, people. Blurt. And run.