Thursday, August 28
there's something in your hair. yes, there.
looks like a crayon, smells like wet puppy.
forget what i said before he shouts. like i ever could she replies almost in tears now.
first, second, third, that's what the forest is for. sometimes they come out she argues.
not tonight i reply.
looks like a crayon, smells like wet puppy.
forget what i said before he shouts. like i ever could she replies almost in tears now.
first, second, third, that's what the forest is for. sometimes they come out she argues.
not tonight i reply.
