Dirty deadpan street rises silent before squinting eyes. reflections of street lamps the burden of time; expensive past. railroad future. a perfectly rolled cigarette rests menthol
Prozac pills scattered across the floor, discarded like the innocence. Snatched away too many times, and tonight I’m as guilty as the men that do it to her.
That French way that he sits, with his legs crossed slightly and his arm bent at the elbow while he smokes his cigarette. Mayfair Smooth after the Marlborough became too expensive.