hair is so weird… it’s just lines. and sometimes the lines look good and sometimes the lines look bad… how
have you ever just looked at someone and thought, my fucking god i adore you. i adore every goddamn ounce. i adore your bones and your soul. but I’m a loser, who just doesn’t wanna lose you. i can lose fucking everything, but not you. oh god. not you.
I’ll give up the Oxford comma when you pry it from my frigid, frosty, frozen, cadaverous, lifeless, stiff, defunct extremities.