on a thunderstorm in august.
on a thunderstorm in august. mental stories
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olifinch182
olifinch182thinker of tender thoughts
Autoplay OFF  •  a year ago
god help the little ones, the silent ones, the mental. the strangers.

on a thunderstorm in august.

by olifinch182

my grandmother,

she's in the next room practicing silent swear words and singing for the Baptist choir next Sunday.

my mother,

she sits across from me with bulls-eyes on her wrists and heathens dancing in her hair and not the slightest idea of the psychopath sitting across her.

outside,

he whispers slow thoughts up and down my spine. when the war heads descend on the heaven above; inside, they hear a waterfall and i the pills loosing it faster than i am.

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