Q may i at least dry you off if i'm too late to climb in and wash your back? 991231
Skull My mouth is dry. I have been speaking, but no one listens. My friends are apathetic, and my heart is tired. But I will continue to speak. Someday they will listen. Someday they will turn. But for not their hears are dry. 011017
Risen My arid flesh, my mouth parched. Unquenchable thirst.

You talk about being violated and I think "here is another moment you took from us" as I watch more of our final words roll up the screen, as more of the good is erased and is offered up as a sacrifice.

Sometimes I think the good moments are the things you burn to warm you, to fuel your pretty sparkly life.

You speak of injustice and cannot see why I am confused that you are more concerned with the fifteen year old you were a decade ago than the one you couldn't help today.

Your pages are dry. My cheeks are not.

Everytime I leave I get closer to never coming back. One day there won't be enough of you left to return to. One day I'll walk past your door.

Soon another woman will offer me a glass of water and I will not look over her shoulder for you.
what's it to you?
who go