the gently steeped and gathered leaves of emotion we paste and flatten in albums. delicious.

i was livid the next morning.
i could STILL be someone...but that was then and this is now.

and they come after weekends of drama; weekends of dust.

laid out on the bed like a chandelier unfolding and streams and streams....


i suppose each item was over a long time ago...before it really started.

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