old habits die hard, they say
now i know for sure
it'll be hard to stop and lay;
my habit of prioritizing you
of loving so warm and true
as i have to do these things
onto myself from this point
to make myself in line
and ensure i am perfectly fine
to remove the grays of hue
to abandon and lose you
YOU ARE READING
nonchalance.
Randomi vomited alphabets of sorrows fixed with band aids, hoping they come intact in the midst of war of heart
