u ask of my bust and how it’s cracked watch my eyes as i look back, refleck those fleeting words and fire away, with questions like razors i feel them drag across my skin, still your smell lingers a constant cause this finger still itches, i built a throne for hope to sit and found a stranger
i love when religious dudes are like “jacking off isn’t a sin but it is frowned upon” like god’s watching me pummel my meat with a big sour look on his face like “technically this is my fault for not being more specific but i’m not happy with this at all”
whats up, my names Darren and i live in ma. im 20 years old n usualy bored. hmu.
