This shit is getting hard. Does anyone really want love anymore? Sure, I’ve had my quick flings and done some strange things. When I take it slow, same outcome though. Except one takes two dates and the other takes years. Time flies until you cry those tears. Not just any tears, but the ones after heartbreak comes. A flood. They say time stops while your drowning. Same applies when you’re spiraling.
You see, I wear my heart on my sleeve. Stabbed, beaten, and everything in between. But I still have love for hope. And that hope loves me genuinely. So maybe I’ll be gifted in return with that which hope receives.
Until then, stay gold pony boy. I’ll be in the streets with the rest of the Outsiders.