sundaynightlights.

she takes two advil for breakfast and four sedatives with her tea...

4am. the city lights burn your tears before they can even hit the ground. neon currents flow through the air, twisting to avoid the dark alleys and the anonymous bars scattered around the block. stand in the fluorescent afterglow, wait for a taxi[dermist] to pick you up.

never forget this moment. it's the first time you ever felt loved in your life.

feel the cold rags pressed against your skin. you're soaked with gin, right down to the final sequin. you're a looking-glass girl, with running mascara and a broken set of Blahniks.

everyone wants to be a part of your depressing little puzzle.

drunk.

with.

e.n.v.y.

don't ever forget it.

blackout.