Every time I tell myself just once more, you’ll be perfect soon, this is the last one. I’m lying, and I know it, but that won’t stop me. I’ve grow too accustomed now, I don’t want to. My eyes tear up as it all comes out, and I think about my goal, I’m satisfied now that everything is gone. I promised him I’d never go back, it’d never get that bad, it’d never be worse, I’ve kept it from the one person that knows me the best. But I’m happy now, I’m going to be perfect. Just one more time, right?
(sometimeinsummer)
tararosetoes liked this
emynence liked this
noshamenovember posted this
