Those days I would insanily put this song on repeat for hours in a row while the lights in my backyard would go out one by one. I would get drunk on cheap champagne while crying in dementia. I would make late phone calls to people I haven’t talked in months because only they knew. I would push the scissors against my arms and cut little traces underneath my breasts. I would never wipe off the blood cause it had a kind of deliciousness in it. When I was completely done I would starve myself so I could be pretty enough not to let you down. I would wear my scars generously and proudly as an eminent symbol of my adoration. I would only uncover them to you so I could see your face changing both pale and lustful in the same time. I would smoke like a maniac instead of eating and persist on not going to bed until four a.m. Silly joke I call it. I’m not brainwashed, I just happened to see it’s my only regret. Only only only.
