December 2009
6 posts
posting old songs don’t h8 me
A Conversation With Dr. Seussicide
Under a red sky, I told her, “I want to die” And how I cry with no concrete reason why and have bad dreams every night, or every other night. I feel sickly, like I am lost at sea. And all the girls I used to know are high on ecstasy, and they’re much happier than me, I think. She told me things would pass, like the girls who smoke the grass, like huffing gas out in the dried-up...