She prefers to walk into that room that smells like cigarette smoke and alcohol swabs, not victoria’s secret. She likes the constant hum of his gun that leaves ink staining messages for the world to see. Skin Deep. She is his canvas, and he will carve “hope” onto the outside of her wrist. as if to replenish whats missed, and an attempt to cover up what can be seen. Skin...
I have no idea what to title this one.
My finger to the link because im downe to meet you in person. Lets get connected and meet me at myspace. face to face then book it, run away with me. But no. Judge me by my default and tell me im not good enough.
She still signs her love letters with