“You’re not my type.”
But the eyes don’t lie.
And love, we might.
Let’s ride the high,
Gotta be your kryptonite.
No, don’t let my heart die.
Writings of a Phobophobe.
“You’re not my type.”
But the eyes don’t lie.
And love, we might.
Let’s ride the high,
Gotta be your kryptonite.
No, don’t let my heart die.
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