ever thought of calling when you’ve had a few? because I always do.
crawling back to you.
she turned my memories from watercolour to oil paintings.
and she promised me theatrics.
then she told me that there was only one end to her hearts attempt of attaining.
I still don’t know how she knew my card or which cup the ball’s still under. in all the world, I’ve never seen a magician’s hat-tricks and scare tactics strike me not with lightning, but with thunder.