(no subject)
chicago is like new york,
but more lonely.
it looks the same on some streets. but there are less people, and everyone is less pretty, too.
it made me miss it. everything.
and we drove forever and listened to talk radio, and the sun sets on both sides of my face. your voice is higher, and you hold my hand in the car. you're fucking beautiful, you say. you're old now. and you want me, you told me, and you told me about how you hate her friends. move with me, i say, we'll live on the streets, you say, we'll have each other, i think. and somehow even sleeping in a twin mattress on the floor is lonely. triangles, one million dunkin donuts, i go twice one day. no one's ever done that to me before, you say, i knew you'd like it. i love you, i love you too. no one should use one of those, i say. you agree, too quickly. is she prettier than i am? what are those bruises on your legs from? i don't know, i bruise easily, they're from you anyways, they're shaped like your hands.
and i cough all night long.
it's fucking broken glass in the washing machine and foam bubbles overflowing on the floor.
don't stay in one place for too long, you'll lose pieces of yourself.
look in front of your fucking face.
when everything smells like rye seeds and lilac flowers, i'm going to jump into the freezing cold water and let my insides harden so i sink to the bottom, and your fucking handwriting on my wall haunts me every time i come here and i can't sleep anymore.
but more lonely.
it looks the same on some streets. but there are less people, and everyone is less pretty, too.
it made me miss it. everything.
and we drove forever and listened to talk radio, and the sun sets on both sides of my face. your voice is higher, and you hold my hand in the car. you're fucking beautiful, you say. you're old now. and you want me, you told me, and you told me about how you hate her friends. move with me, i say, we'll live on the streets, you say, we'll have each other, i think. and somehow even sleeping in a twin mattress on the floor is lonely. triangles, one million dunkin donuts, i go twice one day. no one's ever done that to me before, you say, i knew you'd like it. i love you, i love you too. no one should use one of those, i say. you agree, too quickly. is she prettier than i am? what are those bruises on your legs from? i don't know, i bruise easily, they're from you anyways, they're shaped like your hands.
and i cough all night long.
it's fucking broken glass in the washing machine and foam bubbles overflowing on the floor.
don't stay in one place for too long, you'll lose pieces of yourself.
look in front of your fucking face.
when everything smells like rye seeds and lilac flowers, i'm going to jump into the freezing cold water and let my insides harden so i sink to the bottom, and your fucking handwriting on my wall haunts me every time i come here and i can't sleep anymore.