you are a self-obsessed, yet possessive piece of work. you let the worn-out sweaters (heart) and poisoning eyes (lips) define you. you want the world to yourself and i shouldn't be into arrogance, but i am a part of that world and i let you(r drowning eyes) define me. i am no better than you, but then again- we're demi-gods and better than most; our kisses are sheer diamonds and our looks pure gold (we let the jealous nuisance choke on wealthiness while i stumble after you and you crash after me)
