Even if I try, no one ever really sends what they promise out Riding through the wind feels like sitting inside some plastic hollow shell God, I miss that place— dumplings, garlic, something fried I can’t taste again So very hot, you say it like devotion, like it means something more This is a really interesting setup you’ve built, something worth watching She looks so controlled, like she’s giving everything and taking it back I miss that old game— dark roads and something beneath that never let go I read just one book, lost interest somewhere between pages and the end These are the people you want someone to step in and tell them to stop Sending forms like that to someone you barely know— strange kind of courage That sound—something raw, something that shouldn’t be heard so clearly, but is
