My nose is cold. Today has been a cold day. Desparate and fraying, first thing Monday morning. Sometimes things are so pretty, but you make me black when you're so petty & nothing is allowed to mean anything anymore. & bound up to you, good morning, finger the edge of your coat, stroke your hair and tie a ribbon around your waist/wrist to spool off as I run away. good morning again, and a good morning kiss. tie ribbons is your hair, twine them through your fingers (you remember our orange bondage string, twined through our fingers? only this time you're attached) and one day I will tie your hands together around me, so that you can't ever let go. And I'd hate me for it like you do, but we'd both be satisfied by face, is that what you want? can't quite make it out. i don't want to get better for you, because you make my skin crawl and i want to drown in the heat that comes from all of this. because i want you & you use me, but that's it. And I wish there were someone to take me away from all this, because my self isn't quite good enough. And besides, there's only promise in most of those other eyes. Sliding from one pair of arms to another, tired/drunk & willing, and I take advantage, so do you. Everyone is happy. I am worse, and to pretend to be anything more will fuck me over in the end. I wish that i didn't always have to be eclipsed, or that he wasn't right when he said it always burns out in the end. I like the idea that we are made of stardust.
When Libby & I run away to Sweden, then we will actually have snow. Bleh. Yay for the snow! (Love, love, love you!) I miss having something to make everything worth that little bit more. I smudged eyeliner all over my hand. And I like my bed, it's warm and I get lost there. And I think that is a good place to go & hide.
Feeling:
Listening to:
Pretending: