(Your throat is raw from screaming to a god who isn't listening)

We couldn't let go but confessions were swallowed as well. We couldn't say it.Too sacred to voice how we felt. Strangulation perhaps. That's the closest.
Us is not the suitable word anymore. I am an extension of you; you are an extension of me. And the knife that is going to tear us apart is getting sharper and sharper as we sand it's blade. Every word a piece of the sandpaper. But we are not connected by flesh and blood. Are we? We could just part ways. Wave goodbye. Let go of eachother's hand. Yet I can't. So I wait for the knife to cut through our intervened fingers. Sounds like an amputation one will probably survive from. But I might bleed to death as a result.

Get up baby it's time to think about our wasted potential.

Dilemma of the decade: Wanna be with this someone or wanna be this someone

When they fall for the looks and it's time to show them why I'm single

Drinking chamomile tea because drinking their blood and consuming their soul until they become a permanent part of me isn't an option

"I know that you love me, you don't need to remind me."
Please do remind me and keep reminding me

اگه نذاره نگران میشم atp

یه چنل همیشه بخاطر تبلیغات پروکسی برام بالا میاد
هر جمعه یه پیام میده 'شنبه تعطیل" چهارتا ایموجی هم اضافه میکنه