Smoke this glass and let the shiver takes you apart
Ripping the skin along our shoulders


I'd call on the ghosts to retain my sanity. As they're the only avenue. For me to reach into the deep.

My head is calling on all things. My head would be on its' feet. My head is doing me in.

and the tarot reading didn't say anything about a person cutting smile on his/her face upon reading the (Google told me, no lies). I wish I would believe I could have those as the ultimate Christmas present. Though my senses know better, sweet things don't land on hands like flies poop. They hover around you and let you rot along with horrible face. I hope the person who wins it dreams of me, so that the person would know what it would mean for me, to have it for this Christmas - as there is nothing left here for me on Christmas.