art of life
“the ceiling during a death sentence from not preventing a careless incident that would require a deordorant from hitting the back of my head. moment later I was looking into the light and left with tears falling from my eyes… to walking up years later at a funeral I wasn’t unfamiliar of finding colorless paint to figment as the sunlight looked like the pale glowing within everyone’s skin underneath black garments…. from one kiss on my way home...