Tuesday, 18 May 2010.

because we're all elbow-deep in clay

without so much

as knowing

what we're doing.

do you?

all I know is the fragments of what might have been,

sharp

and useless

all over the floor.

all I know?

that in an universe,

in a city,

on a table

there is a bottle

of ink

that is blacker than death itself.

all I know, that

there is no starlight

and there is no moon

and there are no answers

and there are no fairytales either, not for us.

all I know is that I was never good at pottery

(were you?)

{ 8:05 pm }

narcissism.

edith.
27 July
SAS

iPod

new schoolbag

books

laptop

watercolours

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