This beat is so haunting. I reach for your belt loop. You’re bottom lip sits under words that float, and I open my mouth to swallow them. They taste so bitter sweet. I wet my lips, blink my eyes, shift my weight around. This couch squeaks. Keep the noise low baby. I listen for an answer, nothing. I’m 17. My head fits in the crevice on your chest,
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may i add you?
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yeah. I guess. but I don't write in here anymore.
maybe I should start up again.
no motivation.
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