White burn
I think I'm dumb
He's not real.
You can blink a thousand times, and in one he won't be there. He's a ghost. He's a daydream and you watch him with blurry eyes, darting between counters smelling of coffee and burning flesh.
You haven't woken up in ten years.
He smiles his faded smile and you can't quite clear your eyes
You can blink a thousand times, and in one he won't be there. He's a ghost. He's a daydream and you watch him with blurry eyes, darting between counters smelling of coffee and burning flesh.
You haven't woken up in ten years.
He smiles his faded smile and you can't quite clear your eyes