A weak attempt to claw my heart out resulted in harsh, red scratch marks to grace the skin between my breasts. My nails were cut and all sharp objects taken away. I begged, and cried. Please make it go away. Please fix me, glue the cracks together for I cannot do it myself.
But there was nothing, not you, never me, just silence. And it hurt. God damn it, it hurt. Because you grew a healthy garden in the deepest, darkest corners of my heart and then forgot to water the flowers.
Drake’s probably still in that chair
i get so affectionate when i’m sleepy it’s disgusting