i've recently had urges to take shears to my hair.
to let it fall, lock by lock, until the only thing left would leave me completely unrecognizable.
as if shedding something so attached to me would inherently let me shed myself.

where is your boy tonight?

it's the only place i've ever felt completely at peace.
the only place i've ever felt completely connected to anyone, to everyone.
i'm convinced if i can go back, and take someone who means everything to me, things will be okay.


it's not your fault. it's not your fault. it's not your fault. it's not your fault.
(don't you fuck with me. not you.)