I was born in the dark.
Grown deep in the dirt.
Buried with icicles growing through the frost in my chest, a warm phantom whispering through my teeth between each lung rattling howl.
It’s my fire.
Flames licking venomously at the walls until the icy fangs fall unto the Springs soft skin.
You’re right, money probably cannot buy you happiness. But it does buy survival, goddamn it. I am fucking hungry and restless and I thoroughly can’t wait to get paid on Friday because whatever is not spent on rent/bills/debts is going straight to purchasing something mother fucking delicious for my tum tum. That is all.