reality realized
I don't want to take pills to make me sane. I don't want to drink alcohol to make me sane. I don't want to kiss lips that do not belong to me. I don't want to forget you. I don't want you to forget me. I don't want to grow old. I don't want to attempt it any more. I don't want to have to feel time. I don't want to be sane anymore. I'm sick of trying to do that. I just want to be comfortable in my insanity. The impossibility of that has tasted me blood over and over and over and over again. Oh sweet metallic lover, you tiptoed softly passed me in the night, but I awoke anyway. I wanted to grow old with you, silly me silly me. I have already grown old and you have pushed the possibility down, down, down. All that is left of you, all that is left of me, all that is left of you and me are tastes and smells. sofamiliar.yetforgotten.