food fight
Broken- a suicideThe metal was cold in his hand. The night air had chilled it. The pavement he sat upon was hard as cold as ice, making him shiver despite his best efforts to look manly. He looked down to his hand as it rested against the ground. The shiny silver of the revolver glittered in the moonlight. I’ve been broken so many times. My outer shell is full of cracks. Don’t try to fill me up with love. It will just slip away, away.Broken- a suicide
He sighed and averted his eyes from his hand, looking to the stars. Dark clouds blocked his view. An i
Thanks!
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Some days you just can't get rid of a bomb.
Thanks for visiting my gallery, by the way... Keep up the art!
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'grats
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Every day I walk the same path only to arrive where I began.
You really should've made me draw while you were down here. I need serious help, otherwise this slump is gonna become permanent.
[heh heh... I said come]
you can draw when you come up here. in fact, with my slow net access, limited tv, and obscene distance from anywhere, we'll probably have a lot of time for it...
...well, when we take a break from our main source of entertainment, of course.
--
Some days you just can't get rid of a bomb.
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