I have run out of nice words. No good things to say.
I know now that I can’t make good
How I wish I could
Go back and put
Me where you stood
Nothing’s really something now the whole thing’s soot
The human heart was—and remains—a mystery to me. But I’m learning. I have to. —Anthony Bourdain
I have run out of nice words. No good things to say.
I know now that I can’t make good
How I wish I could
Go back and put
Me where you stood
Nothing’s really something now the whole thing’s soot