Every elegant word I attempt to utter to your silhouette, always comes out twisted and mangled by the only concept of love I ever grew to know. The attempted softness acting as a way of self defense rather than affection to you.
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Poems and shit
RandomJust me writing things that I feel like writing, from songs I made to vents in poem version.
I Don't Mean It, My Love
Every elegant word I attempt to utter to your silhouette, always comes out twisted and mangled by the only concept of love I ever grew to know. The attempted softness acting as a way of self defense rather than affection to you.