they pay to kiss your feet

since there's no one else around, we let our hair grow long and forget all we used to know. then our skin gets thicker from living out in the snow.

Saturday, April 07, 2012

watch me work.

this is what it looks like when i write. my computer gets to see all my angst. and all of the fucking freckles that the sun keeps introducing to my skin.

i also have no idea where the scars on my hand came from. but i'm guessing daily digging into my black-hole-of-a-purse and delicate skin are two of the culprits.

posted by Pensive Girl @ 4:46 PM  

1 Comments:

  • At 8:58 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    Are you sure it's not your spinning back fist? Punches like that can really mess up your knuckles. JK :)

     

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