Sell out

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. 

Leave. 

How original. 

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