adrift.
We got in another fucking fight again. And now here I am at 1am in the morning wandering the streets. It's pissing down with rain and this leather jacket + hoodie combo isn't doing much to stop me from ending up soaking. My combat boots are taking in more water and making a squelch noise every third step. My sports bag keeps knocking into the same little part of my hip but in all honesty I don't give a shit. I've got my booze and my basic possessions and I'm away from him for now. That'll keep me warm. That'll keep me going. That'll make me forget about the lovely bruise that'll form on my side if I just. keep. walking. I say 'my booze' but in reality I swiped it from his apartment before I left. It's his favourite, and I'm petty, and he's an asshole. As soon as I left I went to the little bodega on the corner and picked up the cheapest, most off-brand bottle of coke I could find. Y'know, that kinda shit that's called Ko