Anyways it tasted like cigarettes.
Well. And I remembered Christmas for a minute.
Coldness, coffee, encasings of snow and blankets of family.
That's something a tart would wear,
that bullshit plaid always hanging around.
Mom said that red belt has a bad attitude.
I beg to differ. Then I differ all the same.
And trust this. I don't want anyone sitting next to me.
At least until next year.
No comments:
Post a Comment