Snow melts, get over it. Boys kiss boys, get over it. Rain always come from the sky, and sailors will always die at sea. Get over it. Men wither away when the time comes, and so do witches.

Boys will be boys, they’ll kiss you, they’ll kill you, so get over it. Hey darling, hey sweetheart, the shop was closed today. Sorry I couldn’t kill you.

This city has been gray for a while now, isn’t that strange darling? Someone asked me to save them, but their skin wasn’t theirs, and their smile wasn’t theirs, and I don’t believe they wanted to be saved at all. If they needed saving, they could at least be themself. You can sleep in the pool, and I’ll sleep in the drawers. Is that fair, darling?

I’ve been in the driver’s seat for far too long now. Sometimes I wished the rain and snow broke the windshield and drowned us driving. Sometimes I wished the London fog washed all over us, so I had an excuse for not knowing where I wanted to go. Do you know where you’re going, darling? Can I come with you? I’ll just be the passenger.

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