(no subject)
I've been coming down for 48 hours, falling hard from being a nymph in thigh high boots, glittery eyes and fishnets, torn by black fingernails. I'm in lust and dangerous, powder and Hollywood, breathed in on mirrors, my pupils expand and still I can't take it all in. I'm still breathing and my hearbeat is jumping under my breast, under sheer material which your hand lingers on, just a little too long. But tonight I won't cry, because I am dancing and smiling and pixelated and I will forget about all the poetry I am, even though it's all that ever saves me.
Oh and I still love you like a riot. Just in case you ever forgot.
Going from an undeground punk show where all the people are crashing glasses and breaking noses and screaming into microphones about the revolution, to a neon lit bar where kylie minogue is played on repeat and skinny boys in tight shirts wear glitter and kiss you on both cheeks before letting you borrow thier fariy wings whilst you drink too many cocktails and dirty dance.
My life is is bi-polar.
Oh and I still love you like a riot. Just in case you ever forgot.
Going from an undeground punk show where all the people are crashing glasses and breaking noses and screaming into microphones about the revolution, to a neon lit bar where kylie minogue is played on repeat and skinny boys in tight shirts wear glitter and kiss you on both cheeks before letting you borrow thier fariy wings whilst you drink too many cocktails and dirty dance.
My life is is bi-polar.