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another morning and in a dirty boarding house room. lying still on the bed staring at roaches chasing flies and not knowing which team to root for
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| tchtchtchtchtchtchtchtchtchtchtchtch | |
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| szszszszszszszszszszszszszszszsszsz | |
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night comes only to find a barstool under his ass. Same crowd only different like a deck of cards the faces never really change they just rearrange
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sleep come unwillingly for when it does it shares darkness. death constant companion spoons close and vyes for warmth. old lover with passionate embrace holds on and patiently waits
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