The happy hour that goes on longer than an hour.
On your birthday I picked flowers I knew I would never send. They are under my bed with a lot of other things we don't like to talk about. On my lips, the cigarette is enough to pass a few minutes, it calms these nerves. A body full of electricity with nothing to light. At night, I don't want to sleep, sleep makes things worse. When I wake up, there will be nothing, your absence, and the scent and sound of rain.
Sometimes even the best dancers, slip and fall.
Strange, one nice moment to pass the time and then it's gone. A lot of those moments are gone, I'm looking for them and god, this is a futile task. I slept comfortably next to you, knowing despite everything, despite how it may seem, and how we wish we could be, our souls were sleeping on the same cloud. I knew you understood everything we couldn't say. I slept comfortably next to you, that meant something.
We can ruin everything with our carelessness. Stupid hands.
The windows are all shut, we need not to worry about the things outside, just the things inside of us, black spiders building webs in our chests. The sun is crooked, like a painting on the wall. I miss nights we've never had, could we pour a drink and fall into it? The television is on, the bed couldn't be any more dangerous. This was supposed to be an adventure, it turned out to be more of a slow realization of all the flies in my body.
We didn't leave much to be won.
A history based on places we stopped to make love. We clouded each other's judgement, overindulged the senses, and suddenly we were far past death on some fucking highway, as tears fell onto the seat. Me and you, we are still hungry, we are still looking for more, I don't know if we will ever be satisfied with what we have. It's making the most, it's seeing how much you can take, it's playing the game just to play.
How many times have we swapped saliva on these pages.
Words are what get me off. Excuse me while I go to the bathroom and change into myself. It's been one of those weeks-- something like a good cup of coffee with the wrong amounts of cream and sugar. It makes it seem like life is a never ending game of Russian Roulette. I honestly have no more hope for us, but for some reason I just can't stop hoping for hope.
This is the happy hour that goes on for longer than an hour.
Sometimes even the best dancers, slip and fall.
Strange, one nice moment to pass the time and then it's gone. A lot of those moments are gone, I'm looking for them and god, this is a futile task. I slept comfortably next to you, knowing despite everything, despite how it may seem, and how we wish we could be, our souls were sleeping on the same cloud. I knew you understood everything we couldn't say. I slept comfortably next to you, that meant something.
We can ruin everything with our carelessness. Stupid hands.
The windows are all shut, we need not to worry about the things outside, just the things inside of us, black spiders building webs in our chests. The sun is crooked, like a painting on the wall. I miss nights we've never had, could we pour a drink and fall into it? The television is on, the bed couldn't be any more dangerous. This was supposed to be an adventure, it turned out to be more of a slow realization of all the flies in my body.
We didn't leave much to be won.
A history based on places we stopped to make love. We clouded each other's judgement, overindulged the senses, and suddenly we were far past death on some fucking highway, as tears fell onto the seat. Me and you, we are still hungry, we are still looking for more, I don't know if we will ever be satisfied with what we have. It's making the most, it's seeing how much you can take, it's playing the game just to play.
How many times have we swapped saliva on these pages.
Words are what get me off. Excuse me while I go to the bathroom and change into myself. It's been one of those weeks-- something like a good cup of coffee with the wrong amounts of cream and sugar. It makes it seem like life is a never ending game of Russian Roulette. I honestly have no more hope for us, but for some reason I just can't stop hoping for hope.
This is the happy hour that goes on for longer than an hour.