•Ɛ•
send me a •Ɛ• and i will put my playlist on shuffle, write down the last line of five songs and give it to your muse as a poem from mine.
Everybody talks…back
Icarus is flying towards an early grave
I’m gonna fall, I’m gonna die…die….d i e
I’ll cut your little heart out cause you made me cry
You can’t remember; you try to feel the beat…






