a deadlock on the door that will keep good out
_________________________________and evil in.
it’s like the first time I touched a needle. like
the rush of fire to the heart when the ground is miles away
and you are between planes.
unlike Shakespeare, I dream of forgetting her, to have never
loved at all, and yet so many nights will be spent sleepless,
staring into those bright eyes. as much as I should hate her,
as much as I should want revenge, I just want to love
her and be loved in return.
she’s a fresh cut. she’s the sour of hot whiskey in the summertime.
Spoiler! :
Gender:
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