The locals called it Lover’s Lanebut to me it felt like Death’s Hollow.
She needs her guitar
the girl who plays guitar and never smiles
The heartbeatsaccelerate until thereis no space discernible between anytwo of them.
through the tunnelI take a ride barely getting a hold around the barrel of his…
Wheels catching the same windsas the hawkdark dark eyes that are just covered nowBreath in ripped…