24.12.23, or come on over and do the twist
yellow lights make it look like your dress has a fever. there's an iridescent christmas tree in the hall, it tastes like nothing. everything tastes like nothing nowadays.
yesterday I spent my whole evening knees-deep into an icy sea, reading over a rock and secretly praying a wave would run me over. I see dead jellyfish along the sand. I envy their gace.
I wish you could see under my skin. right in between flesh and white, I think that's where it hurts. it's been bleeding for a while, but you won't see unless you pinch it.
it pinches me intead, and the jazz music of this overly-lit room makes me nauseous. they place plants over the windows and they all look cold in the warmest day of summer.
I've daydreamed of running away with twenty on my pocket and one album on my cell phone, but I'd never go too far. there's him I'd come back for.
I'm sorry it's no longer you.