I rush about sloshing variously sized buckets of smelly, sludge grained water one into another as I remember we did in a primary school maths lesson...
I am the dead sound you get from something that's been hit once too often. I am the one who's eyes you won't meet in the street. I am the dusty piece...
I am thinking of you saying I could come stay with you. Of me asking if you had a spare bed and you saying no. I am thinking of what sort of person I...