I don’t know if it was emotional blackmail.
I don’t know if i’m the one that’s full of shit.
We don’t know eachother, shall we see how much we can lie.
Or is it truths we tell, in all their beauty?
Paint your own picture.
But. I’m scared
I don’t believe i’m good at this art.
I feel (like), wriggling in my eye-lids are maggots.