winter sun tear me apart.

another Violence. dry skin on fingers, and can't get the music right, watching the silhouettes and can't get... that colour of the wall, in the sunlight. I focus on the colour of the wall, the green, the painting, the light leaving. brush of lips for sensation, bent spine, cracked knuckles, spine, knuckles close.

it feels like too much so the actions falter. and i can't force another action, that would: Fuck it.

Can't, just for the colour. he won't, just for.