Fuck you. I miss you. You died. You just…. fucking died, and left me here, alone, to deal with this shit. Tomorrow’s your Birthday. Your thirty-seventh Birthday. Yet you stopped getting…
Source: Dynamite and Whiskey.
Fuck you. I miss you. You died. You just…. fucking died, and left me here, alone, to deal with this shit. Tomorrow’s your Birthday. Your thirty-seventh Birthday. Yet you stopped getting…
Source: Dynamite and Whiskey.
Author of fiction, poetry, and very sweary social commentary. Editor, and co-founder of Indie Blu(e) Publishing. Co-founder of Blood Into Ink, and Heretics, Lovers, and Madmen. View more posts