let’s go, forget about me.
there’s something under my skin.
i know that i’ve told you at least four times that i’m so tired of this.
that i’m so…
sleeping on the rooftops with “freedom” down your sleeve.
you’re in the closet whispering.
oh, i know that this won’t end well.
i’m typing, “eight-year-old finds a human skull”.
just please, come on, don’t make me ask her.
when all i wanted was a picture.