ill be counting.

a phantom family that walks within walls that don't crumble; that wont break. a home without windows or classy curtains with velvet bristles to drape. second thoughts are cruel; just one of life's greatest cruelties and they're always too late. a disease that makes you cold. a disease you cant shake. just a doggie door and a few bulletproof padlocks where her eyes used to be. i know this story so well its become a part of me. living vicariously, your own personal and my bleeding tragedy. you chew it up and let it brew then spit it back at me. she walks along a cobble stone path leading right up to the edge of a cliff. daily doses make this a routine of silver linings and sharp rocks one not worth keeping but the pretty walk along the cobble stone path is all you have so you hold it dearly.