DEAF + DUMB + DONE
then -
now -
archives - notes -
dl
two june
eleven : twelve
he wrote to me at 4:30 this morning:
"i'm so tired of all my thoughts smashing into each other at an intersection and its not until a little while later when i'm sweeping the broken glass into the shoulder that i think i realize what i was thinking, but its all just bits of broken glass and the tail lights are an ugly orange anyways.
i'm sorry. i love you more than anything."