103.

Something went sick with us. It was always wilting and curling brown, but the bottom fell out sooner than I had expected. I saw sparkling into tens and twenties of years in the future, and I had no idea how wrong I was. Love is something with spikes that you put down your throat. Time repeats. Time repeats itself. I have given myself over and I have given myself over and over again. I am done with being done. I am looking for something cleaner than you. I am breathing my own breath now, never yours.