it holds me to something (you, now). I love editing!
It's
dusk
in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.It bites my wrist but there is only a dull ache.
I feel that it wants to say sorry but can't. I die.
I wonder if she knew I was down there listening? I wonder if she would've said something more true, more personal, more raw, more heartfelt, more harsh, more seductive, more freeing, more exposing, more risky, more romantic, more rude, more honest, more anything, if there hadn't been an audience.
I am below everything.