they are moss they are the rot on the foundations of relationships that would have been I fear that my truest intentions are not true that my deepest insecurities are the reasons for all I do because why would it be questioned why would I fight back if it were not the truest self I lack
I am a walking ticking time bomb I am waiting to explode always waiting for the next explosion always waiting to scare them away they always run
I'm not colorful but the absence of color I am darkness with a buffed exterior Yield. Stop. I am a red octagon I want to be gone right now, I want to be gone.