Peter once asked: which things make you feel something?
And the truth is I’ve been play pretending since quarentine
When I started to believe in a glamourous life
Lillies of the valley, meditation
Behind sunrise filters there’s someone unhappy, black and white
With a dull and wrinkled skin, she hates the sun
She always thought about her vocations
House decorator but she never could do it right
Just like singing, or dancing or even flerting but not like holding a gun
She lives in a small and warm house
Which she always wished the old roof to cave in
No garden, no breath, but death
Never met the green but fell in love with violence
And by that I mean - her mother talks about the path
God, unfriend of mine
Please, let me d-die
I’ve been play pretending since quarentine
When I started to believe in a fitness life
*** with cellulite but not like Jupiter
Curves all over the body but not like the ones on the road
There is hair, but not long enough and strong enough like Rapunzel's - for her men to entrust her with the climb
There are big arms, but not like Anette's because no one would stay in it for that long
There’s no art on her
November 1st 2021, she noticed that she was thinner but she couldn't wear her high waisted pants like she always wanted
Her mother would **** her if she did
So she prayed one more time
God, unfriend of mine
Please, let me d-die
I’ve been play pretending since quarentine
When I started to hide in the night life
‘Don’t trust the moon, she’s always changing’
Peter once asked: which things make you feel something?
So she prayed one more time
God, unfriend of mine
Please, let me d-die
