I take pictures of peaceful scenes, it calm my inner insanity. I’m also fond of taking pictures that are dark and macabre, setting a nightmare scene. What does this say about me?
Visiting hours are over
And I haven’t thought of visiting you
Aside from the tinge of guilt for not helping my sister deal with your decaying body
It could be malice
It could be spite
Maybe I’m hoping you’re laying there realizing what it’s like to be alone, dying on your own accord
Perhaps I like to think
That I’m colder than I am
That I can let the bad and the awful
Completely negate the good, the happier times
I imagine my life will be much the same without you
No birthday cards
No phone calls
And I don’t know how I want to deal.
I’m at Barnes and Noble and Someone tried to write something deep and inspirational on the bathroom wall. The next guy responded with “booty, booty, baby you got booty.