I'm losing hold on something I can't touch because a few thousand miles comes between us. And as though it weren't enough, weak will yearns to lust.
I will never learn to rectify myself or try to justify myself. I will never turn to anyone else. This burn is my own unbecoming.
And no one should fuss over me.
Mar 16, 2014
Mar 16, 2014 at 10:46 PM UTC
I'm losing hold on something I can't touch because a few thousand miles comes between us. And as though it weren't enough, weak will yearns to lust.
I will never learn to rectify myself or try to justify myself. I will never turn to anyone else. This burn is my own unbecoming.
And no one should fuss over me.
