three dead flowers
de jonabug
Words flying out of my mouth
Just like flies look for something dead to be hanging around
I'm rotting inside
When we burn hard, the ashes will be light and soft
Just like a cold night
Sunday morning might be quiet
But I'm not alone if I grab my own hands
Three dead flowers, lying in my garden
It makes sense if all my roots are gone
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nº 365
três tigres tristes
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look at me
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at least on paper my mistakes can be erased
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a sua voz é o motivo da minha insônia
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fome de fugir
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brown colored eyes
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mommy issues
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