nubcakeMARYftw

I sit outside in this heat, I hear the trees rustle as the wind whirls their leaves about their branches. The oddest thing occurs to me; I can hear the wind, yet the air feels so stagnant. I don't feel the air moving around me. It reminds me of him. He would always reveal his love for me, but I never felt it. His mind and his mouth would work in collaboration to create these scenes of passion, yet those passions never presented themselves. The whole thing was damned from the conception, and we both knew it. It was too much. When we were together fire and brimstone rained from the skies. He was my fire. Fire destroys. Fire eventually burns out

Watching the clock is the worst thing but sometimes that's all there is to do. Sitting in the corner of this lonely hotel room, this dirty, depressing hotel room, what else is there to do? The walls are a sickening color. Maybe at some point they were white; they're now stained yellow from the cigarette smoke that's been crawling up them for years. The color is jaundice and unnerving. It makes me think about what color this smoke makes my lungs. I twirl my cigarette on my fingertips and think, "Fuck it". I light my cigarette up and take a long drag. I'm facing so close to the wall that when I exhale, the smoke ricochets back into my face. It