You said I was your favorite
You are my favorite
I look young but I'm an old soul
Thank you
I want to rip out your lower back
And s** the air out of your lungs
And wrap my hands around your neck
And collapse your throat
And squish your thorax
And kiss you
The cuts in my head I can't feel
Friends are everywhere but I'm always leaving
Dismantling us with rumors
You have some f**ing weird friends
Always taking photos and collecting numbers
What do they do with all that stuff?
I barely remember your face
But I think of you constantly
But each repetition becomes submission
Becomes more abstract
True rumors
I said I wanted children but not now
They stopped collecting the trash
Time is destroying us
This job of mine is just depression and longing
I feel sick again
Fleshstone
Please don't admire me
I'm sick again
These fleshstones are bruised
The cuticles are white and sting
Moments have consequences
The devil is waiting
Perpetual