(no subject)
You are worlds of cobalt glass bottles shaped like tear drops, & sunsets painted in flavored fog. I'll colour your lips with a tongue of truth & let you salivate & stain my fingertips. I'd paint you like a canvas with crushed rasberries & blueberries & mint leaves. We could eat snow from the top of mountains gone untouched for centuries. & we could live in our creations forever, & i'd smile for you always. Small secret smiles & laughing lippy smiles alike.
With each new age, & I've had many, comes forgetfulness of past ages. I've stepped into so many skins, & I'm stepping into a new one now, I think.
[But I've sewn you to me this time around, so do not fear being forgotten.]
You're sewn with bright invisible buttons to the corners of my eyes, & the middle of my ribs, & at the ankle & outer wrists. & your kiss burns between my shoulderblades for comfort & knowing.
It's my wish, as it has been, to be closer in proximity to you. I could write or draw pictures & prose of how things should be, or will be.
& This distance is dreadful, & lastnight i couldn't be solved.
& In broken states, I am your magic potion.
& I am too far away to fix it.
Sleep alone, but dream of ease. Of crunching snow & hot air making fairytale shapes the second it hits the cold outside your lips.
I've been sick most of the day. Still up on no sleep, everything fucking hurts, & I'm whiny. My mom's sick, so I spent the day taking care of her - at least someone's feeling better.
My fingers are cold. & i keep having crying fits - my eyes are red & swollen from salt monsters. & if i was a three year old i would be crying for a 'bankie' to cuddle. I want to sleep, but I have a million things to finish.
Oh, & I feel like the most fucking ugly thing in the world.
No more looking at pretty moons for me.