'not love'
Withering away
Like my self respect-(or lack there-of),
I'm treading forever, can't seem to get above.
The epidome of just one thing-
ITS NOT LOVE.
Such an ugly thing, I gear up for battle- now forever defending
With my face towards the sky I ask aloud is this rip...
Like my self respect-(or lack there-of),
I'm treading forever, can't seem to get above.
The epidome of just one thing-
ITS NOT LOVE.
Such an ugly thing, I gear up for battle- now forever defending
With my face towards the sky I ask aloud is this rip...