and ive had recurring nightmares, that i was loved for who I am

open your closed mind and close your open mouth

oh, to be young and to feel love's keen sting

and i don't care if you're sick
i don't care if you're contagious
i would kiss you even if you were dead

do not pity the dead, harry. pity the living, and, above all, those who live without love

i'm low on gas and you need a jacket

oh, somewhere deep inside of these bones
an emptiness began to grow
there's something out there, far from my home
a longing that I've never known

crochet is my therapy.


☔️ ♈️ ⚓