He’s a good man and I know he loves me deep down. He loves me when he tells me he despises me and this I know: because he does it in such a way that his tongue stops tasting like bitter tea and instead pours out sweet syrup all over me. He’s a good man […]
Fight for what you fucking love.
Do I stay or do I go?
It wasn’t love that I was incapable of; it was just loving you.