you're not supposed to be this mean to the person that you love you aren't supposed to be so passive-aggressive who hurt you when your heart was still growing? it was not me i was not born
My mask is what I have become. A clown drowning in his own tears while smiling for the world. The paint won't come off. My skin is stained snowy white and my red nose piece is how I breathe. Removing a single piece would be suicide and this why my first faced was dyed. No one to talk to or confide, a clown in a cage, telling jokes for your laughter.
when you don’t know what to do close your eyes and remember the afternoon we spent giggling in the burning sun, lying with sand between our toes and forever on our lips. grab and follow that feeling, it’ll take you where you need to be