when i was about to leave you. the whole world felt dissolved. then there was only me, contemptible and resolute. and everything i felt and ate and feared kept getting stuck somewhere between movement and the lack of movement. and i wanted to swim in a glue of sin. and cigarettes. to stick for awhile. and not feel so goddamned ashamed. or alone. or lonely. and then the wind was rattling the edges of my windowpanes. just like this.


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