When people are sleeping around do they ever think of friendships and if there’s any at all? And why are you sleeping with someone who wouldn’t care if you’re dead or alive? Like imagine times you’re alone and really have no one, and you get sad and you think bout the people you’ve met, people you’ve kissed, people you’ve slept with and than how many of those lovers or sorta friends can one really depend on?
After all the mud covered me. I am only half-human. The rest is dirt. And I’m a bastard that forgot to love you like all the yesterday’s where never owned by our lips hugging like flowers in a whirlpool. You were my whore, naked, and beautiful. I dreamed you into starlight, it covered me at night. Yet I was still restless. As we consider love like an art form, as is life; And it takes patience.