Kaija Alexandra Thom 18 November at 03:30
i may indeed be seeing you tonight. i'm excited in a way. i did some really bunk coke. maybe i'm just crashing. but this feeling in my stomach is absolutely horrible. where ever you are. man, this is weird writing to a dead chick. and even weirder referring to my best friend as a dead chick. you're not really all that dead are you. you live on in our memories </cheese>. i'm kind of glad your step dad cremated you. it was weird to think of your shell laying in the ground decomposing. i would wonder about what stages and shit you were in. not happy thoughts. this letter is getting a little psychotic. i kind of forgot why i even messaged you. oh right. i think i might overdose.


any way. i love you. i wish i'd touched that butterfly wing to your timeline. but its too late now for what ifs. even though i know one little nudge would have interrupted that seconds that brought you and that pole together. miss you lots. visit me in my dreams sometime, ok? i miss talking to you. don't make me get out the ouija board, girl.

this is the first time i've been able to fully acknowledge the fact that you're snuffed with out my eyes tearing up. that numbness scares me. i don't know how to finish this. there will never be closure with you. because no matter how much i send pointless fucking facebook messages i didn't get to say good bye. and this, my dear, is a sad sad imitation.

cheerio

just out of curiosity, how many of you would pay 12.99 for a monster compilation of my poetry. it would be a legit book and what not. im a vagrant currently. i definitely wouldn't mind be kicked the odd 13 bucks here and there

i just found a four pager in an old journal of mine describing the sensation of puking. that's some fucking tolkien epic shit right there

with out love breath
is just a clock
ticking


with out breath
love is just
necrophillia




[link]

little did he know, he was also mine