Taken hostage by the caustic dimly lit hollows you’ve left entrenched in my mind I find comfort in reasoning from time to time, but never on my own dime. I’ll make you pay the bill… I’ll leave the tip… I was always a better judge of service in this relationship.
Pity I saw this same story yesterday and you still remain the same… I remember the way you used to taste… the bitter residue of a conversation spent spiting the seeds of regret to and fro. Have you seen it…? My passion… my drive…. Could a swore I left it round here this time… along this vast highway that we all ride.
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