lackluster endings bend kinks that crease but they were lost in the lust for scraped backs and knees, and she would never say no long as he'd never say please, and they would never mention scars, or intentions, or disease. and with the ease at which the so called passion turned to hypodermic fashion, he would leave only a note, 'be careful: needles in the trashcan."
cuz - like - love and *** are like drugs right. and like - you cant shoot up ***, you know? ******' rad/