C r a s h.It's lit.C r a s h.
Burning, filling me with millions of chemicals.
I'm weighted.
The night sky is clear of stars, or full of smog. Whatever. The pale, yellow-white moon glares down upon the suburb.
A car, painted black and white, roars it's sirens.
My virginity.Questions.If a monkey can write Shakespeare over time, then why can't human beings? If you go into a room and ask a boy to invite you, why would he reject you? Why do you have to weigh 105 pounds and have a round shaped face to be pretty? Why do you have to put plastic in your torso to feel beautiful? What has the world come to, when the U.S.A decided to choose a horrible president?Questions.
Why would I even be asking these questions? &
*gigglepurrs*
*ish Cesaire*
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<3_Audrey
"She listens to the Cranberries in the morning to feel wiser at night
(...)"
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edgaralmeida
Photography and Design
My wobsite (with blag included)
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