Cheekycheekers

but when you smile and i see every nicotine stained tooth peel away from your lips, it makes my stomach do an obscure dance. i've seen that smile for so long and so many times, you'd think i'd get used to it. however i do the strangest things just to keep that little ray of sunshine pouring out of your face. i know when it starts. first, the corner of your lip starts to tuck downward like it's bracing for impact, your mustache hairs crinkling and stretching with every muscle that tightens. your bottom lip becomes taut with the corners of your mouth, the middle and most delicious piece of your bottom lip hiding inwards in confusion, almost unf

my mother said she might let me get my face pierced again! the only problem is, is that i don't know what to get. any suggestions?

eight days of summer? time to be crazy, lose my shit, wake up tired and sick, stay up for days, run, drive, dive, get in fights, climb roofs, beat the heat, sit in the heat, smoke, snort, drink, puke, wondering where the fuck you are, forget what comes after midnight, playing the game to find your shit, find your fix, find the meaning of life,                          and quit giving a fuck. i'm not a hellion, demon or goblin. i'm not a handful. i'm not too much or too wild. but you know something is wrong when the only way you like your life to play out is when it's like a junkie and a bandit play house. junkie is the mommy. bandit is th