Don’t tell me that you love me, because anyone can tell me that. Tell me that I make you tear up with anger and frustration, but at the end of the day you still want to lay down next to me, put your arms around me, and sleep.
This is the best thing on the Internet. We undress everyday and it shows us how confined we are. Those imprints show how uncomfortable we are throughout each day just to impress other people. We create prisons in our own clothes. We are a prisoner in a socially constructed idea of what is beautiful.