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I’ve got that lefty curse, where everything I do is flipped and awkwardly reversed. You’re seldom known and barely missed. I always put myself in destructive situations. I need oxygen to be exposed where no one goes, where no one’s been.
Somebody get my phone. So I can throw it in a public pool and watch it float and as it slowly sinking down, Become a social ghost. Inside a box, cut at the top to let some light shine in, to remind me what I’ve done and where I’ve been.
Don’t give in, don’t give up, I’ll be gone. You don’t look innocent enough. We’re too young to be critics. we won’t miss anything at all. Don’t give in, don’t give up, I don’t look innocent with this big, big mess on.
Nazri's 12:51 AM