towels_with_fucking_lemons_on_them pony I'm trying to bring the light back in other ways. Turning over each night with the fluidity of drowning, my eyes swim. The days extend and the clocks keep lying but nighttime holds vast hours, awake. Walking, half sleeping, through fluorescent lit aisles, I seek to replace what I've cracked. I find myself stalling upon the resemblance of cheer. For the heart of it, I'm sold. Sold on the promise of life giving lemons. It's not what I was searching for, but these, these I'm sure, will let the light back into my home. 240418 what's it to you? who go blather from