Hot water eats at my skin as I attempt to scrub away the scent of marijuana and Marlboro lights. The smell hits me like a painful memory. Angry. Guilty. Hopeless. Lost. That's where it always takes me. But I always come back. Addicted to trying to save you from your own addiction. And I can't figure out if this tightness in my chest is my lungs gasping for breath or just the screams of a breaking soul. So as strands of hair fall through flowing water and steam rolls off of red raw skin; I digress that I just can't afford to feel today. So I bottle it up. I lock it deep inside the depths. Only to save it for another day. There's always another day...
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ABOUT THE GAL.Gospel saved, Kentucky raised, dreamer, do-gooder, and lover of people. I still believe it's possible to leave a beautiful mark on an ugly world.
THE GALS GUY.
This is my beau. He's a stud. Click the photo below to check out the epic-ness that is his blog: The War Within.
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