And I’ll delete everything
That way there’s no way for you to check up on me.
I won’t bury myself in social media made for the needy saplings of a broken attention steamed society. You’re just insecure, said the face of insecurity.
It won’t be the downfall of me.
Make our bed, and it’ll bring me nothing but success. Heartbreak a burden to bare for pure knowledge; the seed of undying regret that’ll slowly settle and seep into your large pores when you do the one thing that never ceases to surprise me.
Leave how I leave converse scattered around the house. Worn and old on the floor while I go to the store, and buy one more pair.