December 2011
15 posts
i bit a cigarette between my teeth, scraped a match and sucked smoke in. we sat on cold, slightly wet bricks that paved the courtyard and stared up at the patch of sky that remained between the lines of townhouse roofs. we talked sometimes about life, but we mostly talked about death. and about love. the air became too cold for bare feet, but we stayed outside anyway. desperately opening our...
love is real it is not just lukewarm sheets and sentiments. i think about things like this when we’re in bed, after we’ve had that great, dirty kind of sex and are staring at the ceiling, our legs still knotted together. i think about a lot of things, like getting us married someday and what i’ll cook you for dinner next. but mostly i just think about love, and how lucky i am to...
sometimes i am frightened by the world, and everyone in it. i can hear the rain outside and it pours it pours it pours it’s way into my chest. waterlogged and wrecked, am i really what you want? i don’t see why when i look in the mirror. i am pale, i am tired and i am old. sometimes i think you deserve better than me, someone who will get up in the morning and pull themselves...
beyond hammered. i hate everybody.
