a pair of oversized, brown-tinted aviators. a ring of keys on a black carabiner. a rampant lion embossed wallet courtesy of ben sherman. a phone to fit a back pocket. four surgical-steel 14 guage bars. a brown leather wristband that reads, 'LYNLEY'. a pair of scarred, brown motorcycle boots. a something v-neck or a trim cut of dress shirt. a pair of light-washed lucky jeans. a brown belt with a double-toothed buckle [copper]. a spritz too much of acqua or lucky or yves saint laurent. a necklace on a steel chain with a variety of keys and dogtags. and a lynlily on the lapel of my coat.
scars like vice, i wear them proudly, a testament to myself. also, neither are going anywhere any time soon. these products are mine. they are me. and there we are, smoke-stale and alive. but just barely.
