I have false memories of a broken summer.
The hot hands, hot lips of an underpaid lover.
Convincing ourselves that this town’s a mess.
Blocking out the world with liquid excess.
But I didn’t leave that town. The vicious cycle still continues and the daydream of leaving is still just that. What remains is a boy, too stubborn to not play with fire. Who still looks at me like I’m something holy. Worships every inch of me with bated breath.
I’ve got a boy who loves with every fiber of his being.
That boy is divine.
That boy is mine.
— Lawful Neutral Chaotic | Kayle Marie
Nov 23, 2015
Nov 23, 2015 at 9:07 AM UTC
I have false memories of a broken summer.
The hot hands, hot lips of an underpaid lover.
Convincing ourselves that this town’s a mess.
Blocking out the world with liquid excess.
But I didn’t leave that town. The vicious cycle still continues and the daydream of leaving is still just that. What remains is a boy, too stubborn to not play with fire. Who still looks at me like I’m something holy. Worships every inch of me with bated breath.
I’ve got a boy who loves with every fiber of his being.
That boy is divine.
That boy is mine.
— Lawful Neutral Chaotic | Kayle Marie
