Stop hunting the ghost of me. Small orange box hiding on the corner... You're the monster in my mind, you're the phantom in my heart.
Stop hunting. Why do you have to be there when I give myself to someone else? What's the point of keeping something you know you will never use anymore?
Stop hunting.
Stop hunting.
Stop being here... I don't want to feel the need of screaming your name when pleasure is bursting out of my veins, my mouth is feeling a new taste, my hands discovering another body. There's no space for you between us...
there should be no room for you here....
You are closed and sealed in this small orange box hidden on the corner of my room.
Stay there.
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