I tried to fool myself into thinking that the burns on my arms weren’t from playing with fire That the bruises on my lips were from love and not the hazy frenzy our numb minds allowed I pretended not to have hands to hold anything possessivly but in the end it was my legs that held you tightest Closer that anyone could be Too close for me to ever scrub your scent from my skin it seems
Vol II Hold her like she’s falling apart, because well, she probably is. I write silly dark things