At some point, even the greatest misery begins to fade. Life, or what passes for life, plods on in it's own unending weary footsteps, and somehow we plod along with it, if we stay lucky.
I'm falling apart, one part after another. Falling down on the world like snow. Half of me is already on the ground, watching from below.
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I'm falling apart, one part after another. Falling down on the world like snow. Half of me is already on the ground, watching from below.
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