poems with no chronological order • of love
disclaimer: not all stuff are mine
do not read this if you want to feel happy because it's gonna get really wallow and soppy
I hope this helps - maybe to provide company, an outlet, or just to let you know...
he is the poison in your veins — with him it's a slow death rationality tells you to stop but what it fails to realise is how you're dying either ways,
might as well make it fucking worth it, ey?
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