two march
four : fifteen p.m.

the radio is playing a song that i've never heard before, but it seems like the kind of music i should get up and dance to. i'm so tired.

i haven't even seen him for two days, but he's still in my head in my hands in my eyes, and i want him here now out of the rain keeping me warm.

we could waltz.

music : wshc
literature : journals
fixation : shitty weather