(no subject)
here comes the axe, comes the arrow from the father
to the apple, to the heart,
or whichever
hits the hardest from that distance.
i said, 'i like that we can lay here, silent, together. some people can't do that.'
and you were like, 'yeah, but it's not like we aren't communicating.' and your fingers ran down my back, whispering. we slept pressed close like lips in the cold or folded over eachother like pieces of paper, waiting to be written on. there are still things i don't say like, 'baby, you smoke too much.' i can hear the rattling with my ear against the bars of your chest, your mouth slightly open and you say, 'sorry, i'm so tired.' but it's okay. it's okay. baby, it's okay. and i would tell you everything if that second were long enough, but i am a smart girl. smart enough to go slow through this because we both know now; nothing lasts forever, and as for falling into the horizon-- baby, that is just an imaginary line, anyway.
to the apple, to the heart,
or whichever
hits the hardest from that distance.
i said, 'i like that we can lay here, silent, together. some people can't do that.'
and you were like, 'yeah, but it's not like we aren't communicating.' and your fingers ran down my back, whispering. we slept pressed close like lips in the cold or folded over eachother like pieces of paper, waiting to be written on. there are still things i don't say like, 'baby, you smoke too much.' i can hear the rattling with my ear against the bars of your chest, your mouth slightly open and you say, 'sorry, i'm so tired.' but it's okay. it's okay. baby, it's okay. and i would tell you everything if that second were long enough, but i am a smart girl. smart enough to go slow through this because we both know now; nothing lasts forever, and as for falling into the horizon-- baby, that is just an imaginary line, anyway.