She’s half-insane, looking for an out; she’s hard, she’s scared, she’s been fooled, taken, abused, used, over-used…
but, under all that, to me she’s the flower, I see her as she was before she was ruined by the lies: theirs and hers.
You Get So Alone at Times That it Just Makes Sense // Charles Bukowski
MIND / BODY / SOL 