Nice Things Are Getting Ruined All The Time
Changed my password to ILLFUXYRMTHR69
And walked over to no jukebox but the one behind my
Eyes touched my head full of dye, bleating
Nice things are getting ruined all the time.
Changed my password to ILLFUXYRMTHR69
And walked over to no jukebox but the one behind my
Eyes touched my head full of dye, bleating
Nice things are getting ruined all the time.
The stomach tightens and sinks.
The heart and lungs follow.
It’s a confounding reaction to a receipt of affection.
It’s familiar, and, therefore, oddly comforting.
But familiarity can be a curse.
A cursed reminder of what once went wrong when you were just trying to do things right this time.
This time it’ll be different, you say.
Why? You’re different, but what are you doing differently?