my unfinished art project-- it stares at me every day
Bet You Five Bucks You Kiss the Mask This plastic taste make young hearts race Run for the chase Get lost, retrace My fingers trace your hardened face The holy place seems all false face This lovers base feels out of place Its aftertaste callous blank space
Hi, I'm Jess-- I love adventures, coffee breaks, spending money, good books, culture, tragic women, prodigies, old souls and the underdogs.
Just a girl curious about life.