I wanna sit with you and have healthy conversations/ our wants, our wills, our trials and tribulations/ sort through faults and fears, the happier years/ let the smiles be the tears replacement
whichever madman pointed out that the new rift on bill's body in the theraprism is meant to parallel ford's cracked glasses after he emerges out of the portal,,,, MY SOUL IS YOURS TO TAKE ANYDAY MY GOSH
maybe it's just because I've been having these conversations for too long but sometimes watching a youtube video essayist analyse something is kind of like watching a third-grader run through their times tables. it's like... yes, very good, that's all true! so... what now...
I COULD EAT THAT GIRL FOR LUNCH THE WAY SHE DANCES ON MY TONGUE TASTES LIKE SHE MIGHT BE THE ONE AND I COULD NEVER GET ENOUGH I COULD BUY HER SO MUCH STUFF IT'S A CRAVING NOT A CRUSH
My children. My screams. I could not save you, little ones. Such pain. And yet, still, still I am not brave enough to die, to let go of this wretched life. I will endure, but no more babies. I cannot, will not, suffer such heartbreak again. From now on, it's me against the world.