son arent you in the military
♥♥♥♥ you doing here

hey

rent free

q's with cheaters report them -rep

cheats in premier lmao strange alien

Matt walks slow but thinks in sparks,
Lost in books and coffee shops,
Quiet type, with laughing eyes,
The kind who talks in low sunrise.

He works a job he doesn’t hate,
Not in love, but it pays late.
Weekends spent with paint or strings,
Building worlds from little things.

He’s got a jacket worn and frayed,
Full of stories never said,
Carries grief like old receipts,
Folded, crumpled, incomplete.

Matt’s the one who stays too long,
At parties playing someone’s song,
Then disappears before goodbye—
Some people leave without a why.

But if you catch him when he’s real,
When the night forgets to feel,
You’ll hear a heart that tries like hell,
And breaks, but never learns to tell.