the thing is

that I've finally found it.

updated.
edited.
fuck you, I'm done.
so much is different and I don't know.





I'm scared to talk about it.


But after someone told me, accidentally, that I wasn't a good writer I edited this and proved everyone, myself, you, but mostly myself, wrong when I started to believe it. So, fuck you.



End


memory devours
like a long road
eats laughter

don't tell her to stay
her feet are movement

the roar
is an oven and

you
are
nothing

but an empty swing waiting in the breeze.








Steal it............and DIE.