Every time when I want it I feel the same and every time when I get it, it’s the same. Yet I must have it. I feel my heart pumping black Cole. Every time I breathe I feel the smoke, the ashes of my burning body I am so doomed yet so absorbing. My name is carved some where down the deep agony, yet sense deserve it , yet living amount the people who would hang me. IF huh if only they new. Still I know. I have a choice but I feel so weak for whispers. The voice of fiend. F**K. Wash me. Yet another sunrise. Huh. Please make it hasty. Huh must be hmmmmmmmmmmmm changing!!