and I feel as if i’m skidding like somerset house skating.
like when you need to puke,
and you’re feeling so weak,
you’re on the floor folded on your knees.
i mean: you had me on my knees.
and maybe sending just one ‘x’ Is my new goodbye-for-life text,
and trying to think just what is next:
you’ve got me on the floor again.
all i can picture is held hands coming apart
He says, no varnish can hide the grain of the wood, and that the more varnish you put on, the more the grain will express itself. written by Great Expectations by Charles Dickens (submitted by jai-aucuneidee)