Dec 16, '23

Dec 16, '23

— wasted wine.

dear one,

my hands are too cold,

and my heart too fragile,

i don't want to grow old,

this world is much so vile.

right ones come at the right time,

little one, do you not know,

they don't owe you a single dime,

you'll be alone in the first snow,

there won't linger a seamless smile.

forge a promise, break a heart,

this december, i wait another start,

hold a hand, forget about mine,

how bittersweet like wasted wine.

i sold my soul,

to a longing long unsatiated,

i can't control,

the lonesome i have created.

— vin.

A life without collecting trinkets is no life at all

in the land of gods and monsters, i was an angel

‘ordinary’ flirting doesn’t work on me.

tell me how obsessed you are with me.

tell me how you worship the ground i walk on.

tell me how i matter more to you than anyone else in this world.

tell me the things you’d do just to be with me.

if you don’t stroke my ego or share my obsessive nature then you have no value to me.