I don't care how much you hurt me. Physically or mentally.
Not that I like it -I'm not one of those persons. I'd rather say, I got used to it by now.
I exactly know when you'll be satisfied with just a scratch, with just some drops of blood and when you will leave scars on me.
My stained soul got through everything.
We're not pretending. Both of us know very well that I can just leave you behind; go somewhere else and start over again. Maybe even get back to normal.
Who am I kidding?
Both of us need the other one, in every possible way and you won't stop, until you got everything of me,
my Lucius.
YOU ARE READING
For Crying Out Loud
RandomCore of real emotions, but with a handful of exaggeration. Everyone needs to let steam of. What about you?
