I Mean, It's Really About Falling In Love, Like... Writing Letters, Humming, Getting Lost In Thought
I mean, it's really about falling in love, like... writing letters, humming, getting lost in thought about her, smiling like an idiot thinking about her. That... seems to be dying out these days, falling in love doesn't seem as magical as it used to.
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I'm not obsessed, I'm just doing a spell, don't worry.
I want a butch for me to hug and put her face between my breasts.
I just want a butch to touch my boobs, I'm so needy these days. Gosh. I'm almost crying about this already, help.
Sometimes my head goes like this: Ooooh yes Butch, Hmm lemme Think... Butch!! Butch is all I need gosh! I need to study for a math test... but that butch I saw on tumblr... *lesbian outbreaks femme*.
Marilyn Monroe photographed in the “Hooker” sitting by Milton Greene at the outdoor settings of 20th Century Fox, 1954.
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