Happiness was a boy in a rhino sweater and giraffe pants whose lips tasted like soft serve ice cream.
Happiness was a boy who loved video games and hookah and baking cookies, a boy who could name every episode of Parks and Rec, a boy who loved spoken word and also burritos, who saw finding new bands as a sport.
Sadness was a boy who walked everywhere, a boy who never finished high school and was sometimes still drunk at 9 am.
Sadness was a boy who's eyes closed their curtains to me, who's heart slammed it's door to me, who's body said "come on in." A boy who said he could never love me the way he loved her, a boy who said he didn't think he was "ready for a relationship," a boy who put me out like an old cigarette.
But I'm sick of all these emotions.
Mar 13, 2015
Mar 13, 2015 at 11:32 AM UTC
Happiness was a boy in a rhino sweater and giraffe pants whose lips tasted like soft serve ice cream.
Happiness was a boy who loved video games and hookah and baking cookies, a boy who could name every episode of Parks and Rec, a boy who loved spoken word and also burritos, who saw finding new bands as a sport.
Sadness was a boy who walked everywhere, a boy who never finished high school and was sometimes still drunk at 9 am.
Sadness was a boy who's eyes closed their curtains to me, who's heart slammed it's door to me, who's body said "come on in." A boy who said he could never love me the way he loved her, a boy who said he didn't think he was "ready for a relationship," a boy who put me out like an old cigarette.
But I'm sick of all these emotions.
