sweating in silk.

these things are true.

i miss rosco. he s one of the only people who has ever believed in me, ever, but he said he never wants to hear from me again, so what can i do.

all over a bunch of fucking kittens.

i m not in love with trombone jerome, i m not that far gone, but i do wish he saw me as something more than just a good fuck, because i could be that for anyone, and i was hoping that when he said he wanted to get to know me, that he actually meant it.

wishful thinking.

i do the things that get me through every day, lover, and then somewhere on the way home the power leaves me and i feel so empty. i learn to make old rope from rubbish, songs from bits of string, music from cheesegraters and bottles of water. But I forget it all in the morning when there s no one to wake up next to.

the weather has been hot. i ve been drinking a lot of beer. i cant remember how i got home friday night. but theres a scab on my hand that wasn’t there before. mental note: stop trying a flying dismount off your bicycle when you ve been drinking rum.

Normal
0

false
false
false

EN-GB
X-NONE
X-NONE

<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false”
UnhideWhenUsed=”false” Name=”Light List”/>

<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority=”62″ SemiHidden=”false”
UnhideWhenUsed=”false” Name=”Light Grid Accent 4″/>