cool, i'm right where i started, maybe worse.
lately, of course, I can't get away. I'm waiting for something that isn't coming; I'm thinking I can save it. I want to put my head on your shoulder but I think that'd just make everything worse. We're so close. Instead i look at me on you in the mirror and pretend not to think about the gut I cannot trust, and all of a sudden we are finally seventeen and it's so terrible.
I don't know what I want and I'm so scared of it. Isn't conditioning fake want? It's not you, and yet. how do I know. How do I stop.
some boy says Do you wanna go again, I say wait-- (I'm still waiting)
Nobody can ever hear what I'm saying, I'm doing well at being a ghost, it's fine
Romanticization; i'm still damn immature and too tired to grow up
i still wanted to shock a room on my own terms, but didn't you notice the empty radius around us the first time around?
Sorry, I couldn't change the weather with my hands, and I can't change what he said last year, so I get it.
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