It’s so much easier to be around you when your hands are not around my throat. But still I choke. We’d fight about it days on end, with no one there to stop us get undressed. What a mess, again. You’re out back, counting stars while I hum nothings; quietly calm my thoughts. Nothing can soothe me. Life has been a mess, ever since you left for Paris, and it’s all on me, again. The memories are killing me, ‘cause that’s the best you, you could ever be; The end of me. So we signed a brick with our initials and a kiss and I went down to find how deep the bottom really is.
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