he’s sitting in his shadow match lit. iron sight shifting with his arrow da vinci with a trebuchet. resentment at a younger age don’t think i’ve ever fucking been the same stay still please, so i don’t have to ever aim. heartbeat on my cabernet, gospel on the interlude never into hurting you; but that’s probably hurting you want to hear you love me, but that’s my crawling incertitude I’m sorry. you’ve heard it… too… many times loose lips sink ships on the new delhi line blueberry, thyme, seattle fog on the bloomsbury dime anxiety finds a new adversary for you every time kavinsky playing nightcall nightfall addict. gun-slinging, moonlight absorber eyeball static, upbringing made me too primed for torture leukocyte warlord with a…