It would make my life a lot less moist in tears without your memory.
I would appreciate not seeing your clothes on my shoulders, and wondering how it would still fit you.

rain rain rain, i just want to maintain.

in all terms, this place is getting to churn my stomach to the feeling of possible internal bleeding. i’m better then to keep kissing so polluted air, and walking every fuckign day on this cement. i hate this town. i want to escape, i wish i could just spread riot syndrome.

I still make the mistake of putting out myself, and wanting someone.
When in all good regard, the last thing I need is someone.

I want love, but I want the love that I had; the love I thought was love.
Consider me a hot mess, and fuck me over please thanks.