@LovesCollapse < cinnamon that dusted the corner of your mouth from your french toast.
I nod at you once more./
We have a deal, Princess.
/Besides, what better incentive to get sober than to screw over the name Maddox figuratively and literally?/
@LovesCollapse < retirement package.
I should be looking to seek revenge for the way he’s abused by pain, and one more look at you is all the inspiration I need.
Yes.
I would help you make it.
I would help you rise so far to the top that the fall back down would be just as sweet as the >
@ToxicMusings [My gasp is audible when you suggest I write some songs for you. That was…. a dream for any songwriter to have their work brought to life by such a mainstream artist. Already I was jumping the gun in my head, my imagination running rampant as I counted the royalties and (c)
@LovesCollapse < and tuck it away for later viewing while I drink my way back to the bottom of the bottle.
Fuck, I wanted a drink.
But I also ached to let go of this dull pain inside of my chest that wanted to die alongside her. I sigh a breath and stand, shaking my head as I give you one >
@ToxicMusings [I jump at the sound of your throat clearing, having been so caught up in the music that I didn’t hear your footsteps bringing you back into the room.
At least you seemed more composed now, like a little water had brought some life back into your eyes, like you were less (c)
“Love is pain. Real love—the one not spewed in poetry—is agony. It tears at your soul, strips you bare, drives you mad and demands the veracity of our existence. Love is madness.”