you're leaving. this isn't the sound of a red room anymore, or even your voice. i like to call it numbers, or better yet, math. i'm loving how i will never love you, and you may just have never existed. i'm tired of literature, and words. the facade of a facade that surrounds our names.
i wish i could build walls around them, i really could.
the world needs more love, so i left all of you a present to make your day's tomorrow wonderful. i don't know you all that well, but everyone deserves it. except for the person who's journal was confusing and i couldn't find the comment button. sorry.