“texas is south”
good evening, miss.
all i ever do is wish things were different.
this envy is destroying me,
and it is obvious.
i’m looking to put a bullet into the tile floor. mark this.
i want to say something:
we were blessed, but now i wet my lips and wait for them to dry.
the l*st of the dress.
the thought of her lips.
these letters i’ve wrote are shackled to my chest.
she is misconception.
good evening, miss
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