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an opportunistic kind of phase

laughing about trying to save face at the party

where all your friends are so cool

faded off liquor we found our

eyelids getting heavier

we shared a brief look and just gave ourselves to the night

we´ll just fight to be the ones we hate

we rose in the morning

confused by what we were mourning

for some things are better left in the adolescence of youth

do me a favor she said

"i´d like you to savor the taste of me on your lips

i swear it´s the last that you´ll get."

grace do you want me, grace till you die.

Text přidala broccoli

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