My heart is an unmade bed;
it might look messy, but I swear
it’s a safe place to rest.
I’m almost never serious, and I’m always too serious. Too deep, too shallow. Too sensitive, too cold hearted. I’m like a collection of paradoxes.
Cigarettes didn’t phase me, cuts didn’t scare me, drugs didn’t need me but god I went an hour without you and I finally realized what addiction was like