where I live
Whenever I think I’ve got nothing, I try to run away. I go outside and feel the cold night air hitting my cold face and my cold eyes and my soon-to-be-cold heart. Whenever I think I’ve got nothing, I realize that I still have the cold night air. And I still have the trees. The trees are still green, even when I’ve got nothing else. And I still have my feet, and the black...