IT'S
THE
TEARING
SOUND
OF
Love-notes
































Friday

Shut up and sing it with me.

Make no apology,

And step the fuck away
On my authority,

Crash and burn,


Young & loaded .

Saturday

The aftermath is secondary



And that, was all I need to make my day, my week, and probably much more than that.




Wednesday





This time I might.
To ask the sea for answer.

Maybe a good excuse not to give a fuck,

But I
But I
But I
But I
But I don't want you.
 
And don't want me.


THESE.
GAMES. 

ARE NOTHING. 

Tuesday

You can say I told you so,
If you wanted me to go.


And you're probably just too good.
I just wanted you to know.

Saturday

Now you've sewn them shut.





Drifting body, its sole exertion.
Flying, not yet quite the notion.



IF I WOULD,
           Could you?

Wednesday

No, I’m not sorry.



You’re not pleased till you draw blood.
I don’t hit back but think I should,


I know that you’re wrong,
You’ve known all along.

Saturday

-Dentro de un par de días te escribiré una carta y lo enteras todo, pero ahora escúchame de todos modos.






Eso es lo malo. Que no hay forma de dar con un sitio tranquilo porque no existe. Cuando te crees que por fin lo has encontrado, alguien a escrito un Joder en la pared. 



The Catcher in the Rye.

 
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