168 Sometimes I go back It’s sick and it’s sweet, that place I shouldn’t go there, but Share this:TweetShare on TumblrEmailLike this:Like Loading...
Coffee I remember what it used to smell like.My dad would reek of the stuff.It was as though he bathed in it.The fumes must have been capable of permeating skin. Continue reading “Coffee” → Share this:TweetShare on TumblrEmailLike this:Like Loading...