Hit Me Up On My Celly-Cell
by Comadre· from Burn Your Bones
our heads are a coupe of cases and i am everything and miserable without you. three thousand miles can hold so much. these miles of land. the land is separation. how much desperation inbetween. like a phone call with no reception, our heads are a couple of cases and we're so miserable without each other. can't wait till we can see the same sunset at the same time. can't wait till a phone call doesn't mean three thousand miles. i think our heads are a couple of cases. hit me up. boy.. on my celly-cell. we are the doctors with all the prescriptions. can't wait till our appointment comes. its the only medication.