The smell of your soft skin close to mine. The taste of your pink lips. My soul is for you to keep. Close. To you. The sparkle in your hazel eyes it's what keep the fireworks alive you're my fourth of July .
I am not who you think I am. The smile on my face is full of sadness. My lips speak words that I do not mean at all. It all happened when I realized that no one really cares. Why should one admit how ****** life is?