#( mo w water up to her neck: ahaha i'm so over thomas crowder :)))) )

[overdove-a-blog]

"I have worn nothing but blood and death for years".

  “ — and bullshit. can’t forget about that one. ”

blame spills out of her like a leak — she can’t contain it, or maybe doesn’t want to. maybe she’s just tired. of what, she’s not sure — waiting perhaps. for him to leave again & come back years later, with his face changed but expecting hers to be that same old freckle-stained face, with gravity pulling her lines down, weighing on her features, making her so much older than she is. he’ll leave, soon enough. he’ll come back. she’ll be the cliffs, he’ll be the tide — but water erodes the rock, & fuck, he’s wearing her out. she’s tired, & she’s angry. she’s lost the ability to pity thomas crowder about two years ago. ( she’s not unsympathetic — she’s not blind to the bloodstains, she can smell the age on his skin. it’s just not her place to give a shit about it, really: it’s not her place to give a shit about him ).

  “ yeah, i’m tired. i’m going home. ”

@devilsxson / i can’t abide a poor liar. / sel. acc. !