Art is never finished, only abandoned.– Leonardo Da Vinci (via versaii)
this is a work of art, all worn and torn apart, he took that paintbrush, and poured the colors of love and lust, burns and screams, soundless colors dripping from these seams. a lock of your hair, only memories of you and i in the air. i’m lost, still not found, smiling at an abyss so profound. people say they’d rather hurt than not feel at all, should i wait this long? they might...
hey there, little boy, how do you do? my heart fell for you the minute i lay eyes on you! take my heart, don’t rip it apart, you had it right from the start. why was it when i walked by you, my nerves never tingle, nothing more than a mingle. now i’ve found a boy, who set free, unbound me from these chains, and turned me into someone i’d never thought i’d be.