on_the_small_ragged_couch raze in the dark carpeted basement, there's a girl sitting alone, her wiry hair cropped above her shoulders, a silver gun in her hand. her eyes say the words her lips will never speak, in a whisper not loud enough to hear. she almost looks like she's smiling, if weariness could hold a small, distant amusement in its haggard belly and give birth with no one around to witness the quiet flickering of a life on pause. 130329 ... Risen There is one in my living room. I found it on a pavement and took it home years ago. Recently, I took a staple gun and 6 meters of fabric to it. It is not perfect. But on that small ragged couch we have sat together, sharing tiny and momentous moments, eating bacon sandwiches and drinking tea, watching television. On that small ragged couch she nearly kissed my neck. Sitting here alone, I can almost feel her breath. 130401 what's it to you? who go blather from