There’s something strange about this place, Between breathy dark and early dawn, A silence noisy with the whirring of restless minds. Night time never fully black In a city with insomnia.
you gob shite you arse wipe you absolute twat. you wanker you plonker you snake and you rat. you nob head you dick head you ungrateful shit. you arsehole you skank hoe you total eegit.
Calmly sit and blankly stare, Nothing means anything and you’re nowhere. healthier to choose numbness than screaming “I CAN’T FUCKING COPE!” Because at the end of the day,
She wears her bruises like a badge, blossoming on her vein-marbled skin. Every cut, every scab, every hard earned scratch, is a mark on her map, a sign of a win.
He's prone to exaggeration, it's spreading like a contagion, with steely determination, through a sickly population, or like a lover's silent elation, during a vivid evocation,