(no subject)
you wake up but not really. in the bedroom you grew up in. it's the only place on this entire planet that is yours- the only place on the planet that understands you. it understands the way your nerves flare every time you think about talking to anyone- scared into shyness at the thought of opening your mouth but the way you are the best hypocrite around when you're holding a pair of scissors. it knows what turns that switch on and off and back on again. it understands the way when you don't have a smile on your face everyone only spits: "whats wrong"s and "you look tired"s. so you keep it on your face just wide enough to avoid questions. it understands how neurotic you have become, the way you treat your flaws like old friends.
everybody likes to take chances and make bets. i always put my money on the longshots. and no matter where my head was in the world i always dreamed of waking up next to the biggest brown eyes i have ever seen. brown eyes on a sunday morning. i can't wait to wake up next to you again. there are big things in the air but i can't spill about them until i know for sure. don't you dare fall in love.
my eyes are blackened around the edges so much that i look like a racoon. they look like permenant black eyes- the consumate victim. everybody loves the victim. he can’t put his finger on what it reminds him of but the closest he can come are old zombie movies. she’s made-up to look half dead- which still beats most of them who are just half-alive anyway. her hair looks like rows of shark teeth dyed over dye jobs like she was running away from her natural color. noone wants to be what they are. she looks independent in a very vulnerable way. the safest kind of dangerous. we drove around the city so i could alternate between cigarettes and coffee.
sitting on the edge of his bed. every single inch on your body is filled with millions of nerves. somewhere inside your brain neurons have fired to synapses and put them on alert. when your hands brush his it feels electric. every movement has a meaning, either yes or no. its getting later and later. the conversation and the possibilities are running out. last call. this is a war. everytime she moves her hand to her hair she is sending you signals. stay or leave. why can’t you figure them out. don’t strike first. wait until you are tired enough to make a move. lean in to kiss him bringing an awkward break in conversation. the best awkward silence. sometimes it all just feels so fucking on. if you don't get that, i'm sorry i cant explain it. get off the computer and go out and fall in love with someone or something.
everybody likes to take chances and make bets. i always put my money on the longshots. and no matter where my head was in the world i always dreamed of waking up next to the biggest brown eyes i have ever seen. brown eyes on a sunday morning. i can't wait to wake up next to you again. there are big things in the air but i can't spill about them until i know for sure. don't you dare fall in love.
my eyes are blackened around the edges so much that i look like a racoon. they look like permenant black eyes- the consumate victim. everybody loves the victim. he can’t put his finger on what it reminds him of but the closest he can come are old zombie movies. she’s made-up to look half dead- which still beats most of them who are just half-alive anyway. her hair looks like rows of shark teeth dyed over dye jobs like she was running away from her natural color. noone wants to be what they are. she looks independent in a very vulnerable way. the safest kind of dangerous. we drove around the city so i could alternate between cigarettes and coffee.
sitting on the edge of his bed. every single inch on your body is filled with millions of nerves. somewhere inside your brain neurons have fired to synapses and put them on alert. when your hands brush his it feels electric. every movement has a meaning, either yes or no. its getting later and later. the conversation and the possibilities are running out. last call. this is a war. everytime she moves her hand to her hair she is sending you signals. stay or leave. why can’t you figure them out. don’t strike first. wait until you are tired enough to make a move. lean in to kiss him bringing an awkward break in conversation. the best awkward silence. sometimes it all just feels so fucking on. if you don't get that, i'm sorry i cant explain it. get off the computer and go out and fall in love with someone or something.