smoke danced like angelic slivers in the cool air of september and i wondered how far the drop was. she peered and said nothing, heart as empty as her mind and soul, a living ghost, she would have told herself two years ago.
a lot can change (begin) in two years and she still feared the worst as boys had pressed their lips to her neck and had kept her awake chugging cheap vodka and smoking weed that burned her eyelids.
she always saw the faults in people, never the good things, the reason why she couldn't love; why she her lips would numb at the words "i love you"
