Uncomfortable.

I miss you still. I keep replaying these old memories of you in my head. Dialogue. Smiles. “Bye, James.” “Bye, Gwen.” It makes my heart hurt. Ache. Wrench. I miss your smile. If I could just see you smile again it would mean the world to me. I wish I could talk to you. I … Continue reading Uncomfortable.

Advertisements

єιgнтєєи fℓανσяѕ

ᴇɪɢʜᴛᴇᴇɴ ʟᴜsᴄɪᴏᴜs, sᴄʀᴜᴍᴘᴛɪᴏᴜs ғʟᴀᴠᴏʀs-- ᴄʜᴏᴄᴏʟᴀᴛᴇ, ʟɪᴍᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄʜᴇʀʀʏ, ᴄᴏғғᴇᴇ, ᴘᴜᴍᴘᴋɪɴ, ғᴜᴅɢᴇ-ʙᴀɴᴀɴᴀ, ᴄᴀʀᴀᴍᴇʟ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴍ ᴀɴᴅ ʙᴏʏsᴇɴʙᴇʀʀʏ. ʀᴏᴄᴋʏ ʀᴏᴀᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛᴏᴀsᴛᴇᴅ ᴀʟᴍᴏɴᴅ, ʙᴜᴛᴛᴇʀsᴄᴏᴛᴄʜ, ᴠᴀɴɪʟʟᴀ ᴅɪᴘ, ʙᴜᴛᴛᴇʀ-ʙʀɪᴄᴋʟᴇ, ᴀᴘᴘʟᴇ ʀɪᴘᴘʟᴇ, ᴄᴏᴄᴏɴᴜᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴏᴄʜᴀ ᴄʜɪᴘ, ʙʀᴀɴᴅʏ ᴘᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴀɴᴅ ʟᴇᴍᴏɴ ᴄᴜsᴛᴀʀᴅ, ᴇᴀᴄʜ sᴄᴏᴏᴘ ʟᴏᴠᴇʟʏ, sᴍᴏᴏᴛʜ, ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴏᴜɴᴅ, ᴛᴀʟʟᴇsᴛ ɪᴄᴇ-ᴄʀᴇᴀᴍ ᴄᴏɴᴇ ɪɴ ᴛᴏᴡɴ, ʟʏɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ (sɴɪғғ) ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ɢʀᴏᴜɴᴅ.