ohgod, youmakeme SICK

i'm daydreaming again. 

morning rain and near misses. i always come so close but never close enough. 

i've watched all my friends explode into confetti. like bombs. one shot and i'm already sober. 

this is the sound of losing faith... 

"confetti comes whistling like bombs..." 

so pop open another drink. and we can party till we drop. 

all your love letters start to read like they were written in blood, 

all these mornings start to bleed together. 

"sometimes i use perfect as an adjective, most of the time i use it for you" 

it's corny but its true. 

sorry to act like this all the time. 

eating has been a pain since i got my snakebites but that's okay.