— William Butler Yeats (via larmoyante)
people who dont wet their toothbrush before using it are strange and should not be trusted
This looks painfully similar. The brick road still has the stench of a blood battle fresh within the gaping recesses of the bricks. There is no sky, only smoke. Cries of anguish and disgust echo inside your head as you look around frantically for an escape. The cries are in your head. The stench is real. This happened earlier. You walked through here. You were wounded permanently and indelibly. Your heart still aches from pain and disease. Ground zero again. You realize only you have to take it from here, so you sit on the sidewalk and absorb the fumes boiling out of the blood tears.