If I could sell enough of my soul to forget you’re not there.
I wonder is it possible to fuck away the part of me that remembers you.
They say that virginity is a flower,
and each time you have sex you give away another piece of it.
So that eventually, you can give away the whole flower and have nothing left.
I wish I could water that metaphor into reality, and, like a sexual horcrux, I could sex away enough petals to sex away you.
