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Fish nets on the chicks with tired eyes and ecstatic hair,
nothing will ever be the same when your mind is constantly in a loop in the form of motel room sucides with,
your bloody knife thrown to the door in defience of the whole wide world i just wanted a summer sex and beach hookups not this shit
Now all i got was the bass drop in where is your boy tonight/grand theft auto
why am i teenage dream for the kids who hate themselves as if i dont too (who doesnt)
anyways why am I writing poetry on here just bc I want to be pete wentz or some shit do somthing crazy w my life as if i already haven’t i dunno maybe I’m just chasing adrenaline in the same way that sunsets are reaching out to god
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