My upstairs bedroom is a blackhole compared to the rest of my apartment. The kitchen is holding memories from metal, I hear the impact of the first time we struck the scene. It was the same place as before, but this time you are bigger than me. You’re busting out your clothes from Freshman year, somehow you are forever eighteen.
Working late, & alone.. Is a face picture too much to ask for? Is it Too much of a commitment, To know when my husband walks down the aisle.. it’ll be those perfect pink lips. Man of my life, he sleeps like a soldier… but fucks like a Jarhead.
Even in my dreams we don’t work but please See me before I go to the land of Perfect. We are Passionate almost with no limits all depends on chemistry, vibe & connection… and maybe purity of the party favor at hand.
You’re not outside of yourself, in this pernicious habit.. And it only works because you fiend in the same spirit as me. My friend’s best advice is that I should date a nice girl
