the end.

there’s a campfire on the outskirts of this verdant desert where my soul lays its head, and you’ll find me there with bare hands tied

the chest piece has broken off of this armor set & my weapon is missing / everything I have failed to do is red lining its way through stop signs & yield signs & traffic lights all blushing crimson

nothing is designated. and though there are no police on the road I am still averse to breaking a single law, or taking a single step towards my car / what do I need it for

I’m crossing this mirage blindfolded



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