February 2012
1 post
Please stop.
You’re wrong. I am just a bad person. Please stop thinking there’s something in me worth saving. I won’t change. You can’t fix me. I’m not broken, I’m just careless. I fucked around every time I went to New York. Hell, I fucked around right at home. For some reason you’re the constant. I come back to you, continuously. You let me. Normally I’d find...