it's turning grey
the things you say, they hold a certain power over me. they carry on into my dreams, making my sleep restless, and they wake with me in the morning.
this is the first drop of poison in what was otherwise pure.
8:46 p.m. - 2003-01-28
previous - next
latest entry
about me
archives
notes
DiaryLand
a legit email address
random entry
other diaries:
browndamask