Slum Village - Look of Love
Photo by: Killmetheking
It was cold, freezing, unbearable. The engine was fried and he was stranded. With nothing but a leather jacket, sweats and boots, he ventured down the road in hopes to get to town before he drowned in the argentine, lily white snow. Tightening his grips on this arms, he treaded the road with his boots sinking below the frosty wonderland, chilling his toes until he couldn’t feel them anymore. His blanched breath vividly curled in front of his face while he exhales through this mouth, the air too cold to inhale via nose. His fingers were freezing, he was slowly dying. Town was just a mile away, could he make it? He could try. That’s all that mattered at this point, right? So, he continued down the barren land and began to slow in pace, running short of breaths. Within his boots, his toes has become frostbite, purple and unable to move. He dropped to his knees. That was it.
They didn’t find you for 4 days because the snow had begun to pile up on your dead body, frozen and dry of blood. Your limbs broke off and you were in pieces, literally.
Jonny Craig | Children of Divorce
I knew from the moment I stepped off that plane,
we had no future.
How come your dreams are always so bitter?
And who knows,
maybe one day,
you will know my name.
