I haven't lived. I've died a few times.

i'm sorry i keep waking you up, i just can't get my eyes to close. and i can't ever sleep when the sheets don't smell like the house i grew up in. ...type-highlight-delete. hire a private detective to track my moods. start looking in that place where i need you to love me.



listening to "maybe i'm dreaming" and "this gigantic robot kills".

so i'll always know where it is.