nothing, no one, and too many rails

terrified, terrified we are nothing in daylight but illicit drug users, party bitches, the right crowd for the wrong in's.
turned away a priest for a bottle of gin, smoked for six days and did coke the seventh
fucking christ this is ridiculously overindulgent!
its braille formed with diamonds
a blind mans calloused hand brushing over with urgency while i sway in front of the same wall and pass my tongue over the hidden letters
everything
or anything
always nothing
it doesnt matter that i can moan like no other when its right, even when the room is full and all the doors down the hall are still open. glasses half empty on the window-sill, a quarter full with day old flies, yet i'll still make a point to tell you that [i moan] before i tell my name. what a diluted sense of comfort i get from making direct passes at men i could never give a shit about