it all turns into yesterdays.
love and life.
time tears at us like a goddamn hatchet.
I want to have an apple tree.
in my backyard.
and chop it down.
turns out, I am a pretty petty thing.
and I am the first to admit that I am wild violent.
and purple.
stolen hearts, bad pop songs, sneezing.
that's my rap sheet.
headphones and all.