And I swear that I
Don't have a gun.
London. Cornwall. Coming and going. Appointments. Deadlines. Back in my cage. Fleeting kisses. I love you all.
Call me. Write me a letter.
Just don't forget, I have no address.
Skin poppies.
Respiratory failure.
C-C-C-Coma.
Monday, 10 September 2012
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)