im lost in this washington storm. old thoughts, fears, and the hopeless residue of my soul have been washed away equally.
nice to meet you
your ambitions are fresher than the fruit on those hemlock trees in the middle of july. or the seashells that get returned up onto the rightful shores of alki. you’re a dusty blue-jeaned daydream.
you helped me feel something temporary again- thanks for the contact high