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I, indeed, am a graveyard of every single thing I ever loved and let go. You bury them, they turn into flower. So I guess it's safe to say I'm also a garden.

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I thought I hated you, but could I do that with your hands around my neck? Do I really hate you if I want to feel every inch of your skin on mine, even if I tear you apart later? It seemed like I hated you from afar, but when you're here I want to hate you with your lips on my lips and my hips attached to yours.

oct 23 2022 ∞
oct 23 2022 +