Sometimes, when my fire burns, when I love hard, when I feel hard, sometimes my fire blazes and burns the trees around her. That, my love, my sweet sweet love, I am sorry for.
I’m going to just assume that the real reason you’re not talking to me anymore is because my tooth cracked and I no longer fit your evolutionary advantage requirements for the supreme human race.
I wonder what songs you listen to
now. I wonder what plays through your headphones, your shield from the world and her raucous sounds that invade your beautiful mind and its winding path.
kamelya omayma 