We're Making Plastic Out of Us

this is just a hot mess of words and feelings and there is no reason we can't stop, we've really got to stop. I'm tired of the run around and you sitting on your throne, with the most beautiful of scenery, and I'm tired of you telling me things that are true and you try to make them not true and never apologizing, but that might be the only good thing about this because i really don't need any more sorries filling my pockets, my mind, my heart. I'm done. so over this and that and i say it all the time, i am such a typical cliche when it comes to matters of you, but I'm running and I'm running fast, I'm getting out of this burning building that is so pretty watch and warms me but it is ultimately destroying me, the flames are legit laughing right at me. flammable tearaways and runways looking cool, a boarder line of rags and garbage because that is what were doing here. taking a good thing, like a martini, but shaking it up in the worst ways possible, even stirring this heart would cause hearts to stop. We're making plastic out of us. Plastic meltable emotions easily moulded and bendable to the minutes in which we encounter together and this is all false, false advertisement, false hope, false affection.. Because if any of this was actual, it would be happening naturally and we wouldn’t have to steal moments because id have all the time in the world to spend on you. We're making jokes out of each other, you and me. Laughing fools in a furry of ins and outs and ups and downs and you don’t even like roller coasters, what the hell. Can we stop, this constant, like like like hate hate like like like, the contrast is awful and I cant tell if we have a ship of any kind because the water is evaporating and overflowing and this is just a rush of the elements, hot and cold like a random Katy Perry songs but I don’t want to kiss a girl, I'm still trying to kiss you, and it's got to stop.