        they never could fit in with her kind  ,  she writes sonnets  &.  soliloquies with lies while they litter their bedroom floor with torn paper  &.  wretched hearts. her words are of the sweet world  &.  cigarette stains on pretty hearts while theirs are childish grasps at the overwhelming urge to be something.   ❝   i remembered to put in soy milk this time  ,  though its hot sorry.  ❞   they play at god only to be sorely disappointed at the end of the day while she is touching the heavens. they’ve tossed aside their hopes for track shoes  ,  running away from all they’ve tried to do  &.  leaving their self-doubt to race circles around their skull.  ❝  tell me about the job you pulled off  ,  i gotta know.  ❞Â
(    ❤    /  @hcneyhearted   ) Â
