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Playlist pieces

Hours pass, and she still counts the minutes that I am not there..
I swear I didn’t mean for it to feel like this—like every inch of me is bruised

...

“i know someday i might be looking around, trying to find some purpose. well purpose it can’t be that hard to find, as long as i’ve got the wind, the wind and your love to carry me”

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Excuse me, are you lost? Perhaps you would care to visit the site map

timshel.

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"Everything counts a little more than we think..."

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tag: tantric

Heavy

:: 09/23/06
Everything is safely stored in the Archives