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Smoke Rims on my Rings

you liked me standing there naked in my glasses looking at myself in the mirror, watching the smoke curl up from the joint, just like my head as it reached a state a state of high. in the rafters, speaking to the huddled swallows keeping warm against a blizzard that i dont know if we felt. you were on the wooden floor looking up from between my legs, how is perspective when i can never gain yours? touch me. i thought. but i kept my glasses on, to hide behind them, lenses reflecting a little glimmer of possibility and keeping out reality. but then you grabbed my leg and pulled me to the floor, i wasnt wearing my glasses anymore.


About deadendemily

Emily lives in Austin, TX. She has a minor in chaos and a major in spray paint. She likes Vincent Price and ABBA. She enjoys being covered in fake blood and writing horror stories. Most of the time she just hopes that her cat is not plotting to murder her, her cat being a minion of Satan and all. They would never suspect the cat.

One response to “Smoke Rims on my Rings

  1. wiredwriter ⋅

    So damn good. One read isn’t enough. Fuck, not even three.

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