Dear Shell,
10:07 PM / poison by rita ora. I pick my poison and it's you. It hurt me, yes, but I still want more. You weren't poison, you were a drug- and i fell in love with you. As much as it sounds creepy, i crave you. I picked my poison, my drug. I picked you, and i understood the consequences.
I love you
There is a very loud frog honking itself throughout the darkness-covered neighborhood tonight,
10:19 // July VIII
YOU ARE READING
I Came Too Late
Non-FictionIn a world full of flat hours, I came in within minutes. I came too late.
