he doesn't know what he's doing counting back days and regretting every single moment with her. he's just so fucked up in the head that he spits broken sentences as if he were a whole person.
she was the epitome of a ruination, fired and swelling and all about woman supremacy. she wore boy jeans and real fuckin pretentious t-shirts that made him laugh sometimes. she liked to be on top and refused to bruise her knees for him, what the fuck was he doing with her?
all she was ever good at was collecting all of the pieces of his conscience and disappearing without a trace, all remnants of his souls in hand. she made him into a withering form of self-deprecation and triggered everything that makes a person hate them self. he drank his liver to death and smoked his lungs all the way to cancer. he fucked girls with a mouth full of candy and liked to work corners at night - the ones that stained his fingertips red.
because of her, he destroyed himself in shades of apathy. he hates girls and fucks himself outta spite when boys are around.
look at what you've done to me,
his mouth is bleeding pretty in pink and every piece left of him is dying.
