life is so tragic. with my cigarette smoke and my freezing hands. while i'm trying so hard not to think of you. not to need you. and i'm putting all my plans together in my head. hoping and praying that everything is not what it seems.

i've got nothing to fall back on. maybe i do. but i'd rather fall into a sea of knives than return to you and that fucking life. i try not to give up. but i give up a little more each day.

my demons haunt me still.