i always try to catch you, red-handed, covering up the feelings, flushing the blood down the toilet, it hurts to see me move on, does it? i can't like you but it could have been more than
deleted dms on instagram, whispering about me with your old friends, all of them filling in my friend requests me asking you and you say you don't know them. tiny gifts you bought me from L.A., nicknames that don't make sense but we use them anyway, you'll be my shark forever, you said, you never realized it meant i could cut so deep but i think that some part of you hidden away always knew that.
innocence quickly escalates into nightmares and horror, said you liked someone else, teased you and we laughed about it, but we both know that i'm still your accomplice, they call you b and they call me the shark, in a land where i betrayed your trust- stabbed you after kissing you, when the lights went dark, and all i can hear is the slowed down beating of your heart- and all i smell are blood and tears wishing it could end up different.
i'm not perfect. and i didn't have to do it. but at the same time i needed to before it was too late. oh, every time, it was too late. there's a reason why they always call me selfish. i swore to you i'd rather it be me than you, broke your trust, because i knew that the battle wasn't made for you. you'd be at peace, and you'll see who you truly want to see, and for once i know that it won't be me.
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a/n: ANOTHER FOLKLORE BASED ON MY FRIEND HAHAH i swear my friend didnt kill anyone, just 2 much symbolism
