52
And I realised that I couldn't feel much right now. Because whatever I had with you is now a reality we wrote for each other. And my pen was fictional, your pen was lying. So I talk to other guys, who matter not but I let them think they do in order to bring someone up to kick them back down. I've become a sparrow and I walk listning to pianos and make up scenes and situations for strangers passing to make myself feel as if I have some controll with two 'L's"
The last time I saw you, I stole your bowler hat and wore it to the station. You kissed my cheek with it on and I felt it stump against my head like a brick not knowing worse was about to hit me. and we lay on your bed with you reading me subtitles because I forgot my glasses, although I could secretly here it I wanted you to give me stories.
I walked home with his season scent, he always wanted this. I'd say. He's got me now. I'd say. What an author.
The last time I saw you, I stole your bowler hat and wore it to the station. You kissed my cheek with it on and I felt it stump against my head like a brick not knowing worse was about to hit me. and we lay on your bed with you reading me subtitles because I forgot my glasses, although I could secretly here it I wanted you to give me stories.
I walked home with his season scent, he always wanted this. I'd say. He's got me now. I'd say. What an author.