| A piece on depression/dissociation. |


Perspectives of a Hallucino... Comfort. The softness of the basement couch. Misery loves company.Perspectives of a Hallucino... by ~ArubanoTribalFire
Trickling through my fingers. Whispering across my face, her disappearing
lips trace across my cheeks. The smell is sweet, but she is rough against
my throat. Her smell isn't so much intoxicating as it is suffocating, yet
the smoke paralyses my senses and touches my soul. Her street name is
undeserving of her effect on me. Forever, she shall be known to me as
Mary-Jane. I will never know her beauty.
r
| I am a girl, in case you were wondering from the photo :b I know it's a really bad photo by some standards but I like it better that way, it's actually one of my favourite pictures of myself. Just got out of bed, no makeup on (except a little bit running down at the sides from the night before), wearing a sweater, missing earrings, noticably tired, no pose, no smile, just me. |