follow city streets.
common passerby's.
commuting.
going home to dimmed lights and half a grin.
the food prepared for you sits on grandmas china.
placed on the table.
next to the note she left you.
beside the glass of wine she poured for you, while her regrets fell out of her eyes in liquid form.
drip.
drip.
drip.
About Me.
- Emma Cherry
- In a yellow sumbarine, Liechtenstein
- We must blend into the choir Sing as static with the whole. We must memorize nine numbers and Deny we have a soul. And in this endless race for property and Privilege to be won. We must run, we must run, we must run.
