weevilgirl

go to your father, tell him this is painful, you should leave, we should stay in the Mississippi- the fish get tired quicker elsewhere.Write a letter to your first grade teacher, say i lied, i really did Steal from the girl with two ponies and i'm glad i did and then let you Teach me about god. Its greater without another syllable but goddammit that was grief,and i respect you for your innocence. Write to your teenage self Stop babies ahead but no don't fuck around.When you want to write a poem become a month of harvest instead.Write to yourself for every letterbox you fruitlessly dissected in your teens, for how you rea

you first came to me as the sears in a badly lit joint, it hit me then, i held it in, dont go up in smokes.