Sewer line touches the edge of the suburbs

Back to the beach where a family is waiting,
On rumours of summer lay out a blanket,
Bring something to feed the birds.
With all the luck you've had, why are your songs so sad?
Sing from a book you were reading in bed,
And took to heart,
All of your lives on lend, reading in bed.
~ Thursday, November 8 ~
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Tags: alice glass
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    i wouldd fuck the shit out of alice glass ha
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