I am sitting on my couch, in pajamas, dropped out of school, no plans, no bra, no job, eating mousse, watching Say Yes To the Dress, while my ex goes on a night hike with some beautiful girl.
Please kill me.
You win, I’m sadder than you
Cute cheap clothes. We both get 50% off if you sign up. Life goes well. Go. Fly. Buy things.
Does anyone else’s head feel especially heavy today?
Here comes that familiar feeling
Everything is crumbling down
All of this tearing
I’m dried like a canyon
It’s come to that point where I have felt so much
Remember back to the times
All the meaning was laid out in the stars
Enfolded in their blinding balet
Your hand was on mine
My mouth saying go
My heart screaming stay
Your hand on the nape of my neck
Warmth flooding my veins
I didn’t expect this to be the way
The end is here
No more crying
This isn’t the first time your heart has bled
Surely won’t be your last
I’ll keep running,
Danced with him in kitchens through the greenest summer. But autumn came, he disappeared
Here I am again. I’ve sunk deeper than the other into the obnoxious percolating stream of hell that some idiotic mortals have decided to name love. Avoid this feeling at all costs if possible. This is the only arena where it is fair play to respond to someone telling you they are hurt by your recent actions, by telling them that their emotions are irrational and then speak to you as a child. Although this seems completely irrational to further hurt someone in response to them telling you, you hurt them in the first place, in love it’s an equitable action. I’m realizing now that I am truly ment for my impending fate as an estranged cat fanatic. I keep attempting to surmise my future as a lesbian. I find nothing wrong with girls. They smell becoming. Their skin like silken cream. The ones I have kissed have brought me nothing but pleasure. There is no doubt in the inevitable succumbing to the immense pleasure of two warm petals pressed gently against your lips. The delicate, soft, glowing embrace. Running your hands through a waterfall of billowing hair. That is where sparks are truley cast. No such passion have I found between a man and myself.
Until my voice breaks and this heartache gently fades away