Damp Friends
By a1kerri
- 304 reads
I remember back to them days only for predictions and for lack of
memory I don't want to go back to them cold 4am nights lying on the
pavement waiting to go back to a cold house with damp rising from the
ceiling and touching my face as it heaves onto me and takes over this
uncomfortable bed. Food consumed before we sleep and you know in the
morning there's a pitiful shower awaiting you to barely soak your naked
body that is in total fear of someone walking in. That house with the
certain damp smell and the memories hold a wierd feeling but I can't
describe what to be honest. Applying too much make up again and
listening to the same tape- "let's go out again" what a prediction with
fur all over my clothes and in my face. I'm thankful to get out of this
heaving damp house.
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