lily

I need resurection. I'm a recluse under someone elses heavy blankets watching documentaries on war. all my dreams smell like gases and murder. I'm collecting scars to tell a story.
In a while this will just be another memory that i don't care to look back upon. So may fragments. Missed connection with this tattered soul. We keep chasing death and it keeps us from interaction. This story started in florida national forest, i guess maybe it ended in New York when i looked at you and all i could see was flesh rot before there was something else, something intangible, something lost.
Love, Lily