Beauty is terror. Whatever we call beautiful, we quiver before it.
i don’t have ever enough memorabilia to soak the void full
I hear, “white girl, come here, why you so scared?”
I’ve been in a million relationships. I’ve been an infamous cheater. I was always very loyal until my first, long-term, boyfriend died of drug overdose.
I mean, wake up to reality. This is male sex.
I’m stuck on repeat.
The defeat oozes through every atom of my being (my body).
I am like a character in The Sims, this is all so automatic, some man up in the clouds is controlling my body.
True despair is staying alive.
Hope. Forward. Nah, we’re all just dying animals.