The sad part about Atlas: When he shrugged, no one came to rub menthol cream over his bruised shoulder.
The saddest realization of all: that happiness does not breed romance. Destined for solitude until the need arises. A meaningful day within a meaningless life. I accept your cordial invitation to a humble doom - to always fall back in love. A wolfish grin tailored by sheep.
Something inside me used to be angry; I gnawed off it. Something to listen to on the way to everywhere - nod with it. Some pills that spilt over my bedside nodding off them. Every now and then I don’t hate myself, but not often. Flash - the lightning grumbles. Crash - my thoughts crumble. Something inside me remembers the toast, shit, I'm not with it.