I’m losing sleep.
I’m losing friends.
I’ve got a love/hate/love with the city I’m in.
I’ll count the hours, having just one wish.
If I’m doing fine, there’s no point to this.“what brings you here my son?”
“i’ve been a horrible man.
i killed my father, i killed my brother,
i left my mother in your god’s hands.
“clasp your hands and count your sins.
kneel at the pew till the sermon begins.
“no judgment cast down this day, will set you free.
you are forgiven my son,
you are blessed and redeemed.
you’ve found absolution here son, but only from me.”
“what’s left, what’s left for me?”
Reblogged from last call, kill it
