2 days of making the bad cells die and i left the white rooms with a 40 year old italian junkie. we fed off of each other like vampires and walked straight into the projects to buy a 28 dollar daydream in that lonely bathroom with holes in the walls and the door, and when i looked through them i thought maybe the outside world was just an illusion. I remembered reality later crying and bleeding on the sidewalk, killing off thoughts of him, smiling that i stole everything out of his wallet.
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mikael:
are you ok?
nocontrol:
I love this. Gorgeous, ugly words. Thank you for sharing it.