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lackluster endings bend kinks that crease
but they were
lost in the lust for scraped backs and knees,
and she would
never say no
long as he'd
never say please,
and they would
never mention scars,
or intentions,
or disease.
and with the ease at which the so called passion turned to hypodermic fashion,
he would leave only a note,
'be careful: needles in the trashcan."
cuz - like - love and *** are like drugs right. and like - you cant shoot up ***, you know? ******' rad/

— The End —