domingo, 13 de setembro de 2009

Scissors

I was listening to Ramones and Todos Tus Muertos when she starts to bitch about our marriage and lack of money. I locked the door of the bedroom, just like I used to do when my mom wants to put me down. But that was OUR room, not mine anymore. When I opened it, she was waiting me with scissors in her hands, ready to attack. I ran away and never got back.

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