stuck in a perpetual cycle of lust. i count down the hours until i see you. i sleep thinking of your face and your hands. this won’t end well.
(Source: preambles)
(909): Do you ever wonder how many people have prayed for you to be a better person?
There are cycles of birth and death revolving in my body. I am a baby’s vessel. It’s disgusting. I am young. You cannot deny nature.
(Source: picalla)
count down the days. my weeks don’t make sense anymore. i can’t write anymore. everybody around me makes me want to shove glass down my throat and writhe around screaming until they all leave me alone. it’s always you.
