Austin, 22

June 21, 2012 — Leave a comment

Austin, 22 and paranoid, would lie awake and wonder. Nervously. Every woman that had mistakenly ended up with him after last call could hear him quietly murmur – “Are You coming for me tonight?”

A thrill seeker before midnight – but closer to twilight … You could sometimes find him sitting against the outside of a local tavern, digging and scratching at his skin; working tirelessly to scratch away the blue ink that constantly reminded him – Carpe Diem.

Conflicted by conscience.

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