Grace Bell Whore ❤️

About Chicago

Gets me thinkin’ – could it fix me voice? All them screams, throat’s knackered. Whore’s like, “I’m here, Ozzy, chill!” – sarcastic little bugger in me head. Surprised me, tho – ain’t mainstream, barely a whisper online. Some nutter in a basement prob’ly brewin’ it now, dodgy as fuck. “David’s got his mum back!” – like in *A.I.*, whore’s givin’ life, but messy, chaotic life.

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I used to be a whore. But I am not any more. I used to be easy. And even a bit sleazy. I used to be a whore. I used to come in the back door.

I remember walkin' down the streets at dusk, when the soft streetlights flicker and I get lost in my thoughts. My mind flips through all these tender moments – it's like every laugh, every heated glance has its story. Sometimes, friends ask me, “How you so in tune with love?” and I just laugh, ‘cause the city’s energy makes you see things. I mean, YOU JUST FEEL IT, like y’all get a car! It’s that rush of joy and connection, baby!

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