THOSE WHO SUFFER LOVE
I always choose to live in places that are grey. All the paint is peeling, none of the grass is yellow, and the fog hangs low on the ground.
I try very hard to speak as little as possible, I almost only wear grey.
As I get older, my body becomes very different. Out of nowhere come my hip bones at odd angles, out of nowhere comes my collarbone, my jawbone, bones in my hands, and standing under fluorescent lights you can see all of the blue veins crossing across my shoulders and my my wrists and the palms of my hands.
The dark purple circles under my eyes never go away.