Another NightBefore the sky empties of truth, she tells him. He peels apart dollar bills like clammy thighs asAnother Night
the faucet drips out a heartbeat Or maybe it was tears. She wishes she could turn up his love like
the air conditioning.
As the constellations of his breaths emerge and her anger throbbing like the
underside of tongues, like the shifting of traffic lights she screams to just throw her fucking
love in the trash and he tells her it can go in the recyclables.
these weather patterns clash.i want to tell you that i've been sleeping less but dreaming more. i want to tell you that i've been waking up cold listening to the weather fold in and out of itself as the wind knocks on my windowpane. so while i'm wrapped up in not enough sleep, listening to my dreams and reality collide, i'm waiting for the winter to come and the snow to swallow us whole. since i'm sick of watching autumn paint the world better colors as i stay this same too-pale-shade-of-white that makes your smile seem a little less bright. and as i fall for you, i have to remember that i'm nothing like those maple leaves--i'm not that beautiful. and you're nthese weather patterns clash.
meet me in the starsAs I am saying good night at the end of the day, And you are not here, but many miles away, My heart is so empty and so lonely inside, As I wipe away a tear I am trying to hide.meet me in the stars
I close my eyes and try to go to sleep, But with the sadness inside I begin to weep. Suddenly I remember what you once said to me, Just meet me in the stars, waiting for you I will be.
When distance tends to keep us apart,
Remember I still hold you near in my heart. When the night together, can't be ours, Just close your eyes and meet me in the stars.
Meet me in the stars, I'
peter pan.every year on her birthday, she cries herself to sleep. she thinks that it's the end of her life. that she will die with no one having loved her. her hair sticks to her wet eyelashes and she bites her tongue.peter pan.
the next morning she wakes up and lays still. she wishes she was dead and that there was no future. that peter pan will fly in through her window and take her away. they would live forever in neverland and she would never grow old.
there would be no birthdays because there would be no progression. she knows it's genius but doesn't tell a soul. so every year on her
buttercup, sugarspice.buttercup, sugarspice.
she is lost when you suggest that railroad tracks never end and if they did they would only end where they started. she doesn't believe in complex things like dimensions or caffeine or circles.
she believes in things that flutter like cardinal wings and nicotine binges.
! i watched her collect rain in an empty beer bottle and i didn't ask her why but she told me anyway, because you have to save some rain for sunny days, you know, you've got to have something to chase the sunshine away. i told her i thought that was what beer was for and she told me it was just for making insecurities unapparent and fitt
Sick, alas
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"To really ask is to open the door to the whirlwind. The answer may annihilate the question and the questioner." - Lestat
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There's always a better poem just out of reach.
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i a m a l l fucked u p w i t h n o o n e t o love .
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From what I see of your gallery now, I think it shall be well worth watching. Huzzah!
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