September 2011
1 post
looking out my back door
this apartment, specifically this back porch, is the biggest trigger. I’m sitting here, probably for the last time, remembering how I spent my days. how comfortable it is to sit outside, feel the wind, hear the outdoor sounds, and I miss the smoke. all the various grey strings floating, swirling out of mouths and hands. the heart races, the dozing off, the laughing at nothing, the lack of...