i can't sleep.
i'm haunted by lovers i've never met (william black, aged 19) and northumbrian folk songs and a tour of a bauhaus exhibition that i can't escape from and hives on the backs of my hands that only appear in my sleep and mysterious coughs that make me sit up and panic.
Friday, November 23
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2 comments:
I'd brush your golden hair & sing as I did to my duaghter:
And when you wake
You'll have some cake
And ride the pretty little ponies...
sleeping should be easy, shouldn't it? like this.
they took a mole off me, but this time, they used a tiny "cookie cutter" that went
t
hi
s
deep, then sewed me up. didn't like the looks of it, as it got knocked half off once. ick. my first stitches. xox
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