Cure Mode

Enjoying
the
silence

With my
pictures
of you

Running
to your
heart to
be near

And
although
pleasures
remain

As you
fall into
my arms

Equally,
so does
the pain

A(pathetic)

What
is
wrong
with
you

He
said

Why
can’t
you
just
try
your
best?

I
honestly
don’t
know

She
said

It’s
an
illness,
I guess