Send me a •3• and I will put my playlist on shuffle, write down the first line of five songs and give it to your muse as a poem from mine
→to; corey
from; terra
—
is this the edge of the world?
all that i know is your space is empty;
i swear that you don’t have to go
i’ve wasted days, but they don’t mind;
the buttons on my phone are worn thin.
—