note to self. oh how we're dying for love how you'd lie to feel someone elses neck against your lips how you'd cry to feel someone elses hands graze against your hips and it's not even love that you're looking for it's the right kind of contact the right kind of rough to the touch hands the right kind of soft kiss to bite down on and it's not even right cause you're still lying
07.11.05                                      so fucking st e r  i   l    e  .
stop plagiarism.
© 2005 me