"Where did you go?” “Out.” “What did you do?” “Nothing.”
ten thousand times have i shot myself. self injuries leaving deep impact. I’m bleeding out. I’m bleeding heart. i said i would die of blood loss but I’m 2nd guessing. it’s all coming back to me now your skin, your eyes, your scent how my lips made an outline to trace yrs. your translucent body in an elegant embrace against my darker skin/harder skin/warmer skin. oh what a night. I’m cold and alone and dying. and i don’t know where i am.