You give the shirt off your back, no questions asked, and you stand alone at the cavernous mouth of your suburban closet—
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Kris Kidd
0

I think of drug dealers like I think of my father— never really there when you want them to be.

By Kris Kidd

You burn bright and you burn hard, like a fire in a dumpster,

By Kris Kidd

My desperation is deliberate. Despondency's a pheromone.

By Kris Kidd

Then I drop to my knees because I can't find a decent enough reason not to, because reluctance rarely stands a chance against repeated behavior.

By Kris Kidd

See, that’s the thing about L.A.— When you’ve mastered the art of feeling lonely in a room full of people, that’s when you know.

By Kris Kidd

I gave them everything I had, and I guess it feels

By Kris Kidd
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