A IS FOR ANTIQUE.
dear a,
this is bullshit.
i'm waving my gloved little hand in front of your face saying goodbyegoodbye! and you're talking about shoes, dirty laundry basically.
it is just a repeat.
just like when you talked about someone else's glorious eyes, an ex love in the passenger seat in agreement- and i wanted to rip the steering wheel off and let the crash auto-pilot itself. on that point of 84 there are no barriers, only rumble strips. we'd hear the sound and you'd both panic but i would bat my boring eyelashes at you and stare at my incorrect dashboard clock and just wait- it would go so slowly.
so i broke,
"I HAVE BEEN GLOWING ALL NIGHT, GODDAMNIT. THERE ARE MOONBEAMS SPURTING FROM MY CHEEKBONES AND GARNETS LIGHTING MY LIPS AND I AM TIRED. I AM TIRED OF THIS BULLSHIT. I SHOULDN'T HAVE TO FOLD MY HANDS IN MY LAP FOR YOU EVER AGAIN. I AM CELESTIAL AND NOTE-WORTHY. PLEASE TAKE NOTES ON THE WAY MY HAIR SWINGS WHEN I TURN MY DAMP FACE AWAY FROM YOU AND THE ROAD."
you tell me you're sorry and i tell you its just a complex. if you don't have a similarly advertised disorder by 2005, you'll be way out of style. money, medicine, receeding skeletons and all the pity you can eat at one sitting. in a word, PROGRESS.
this is bullshit.
i'm waving my gloved little hand in front of your face saying goodbyegoodbye! and you're talking about shoes, dirty laundry basically.
it is just a repeat.
just like when you talked about someone else's glorious eyes, an ex love in the passenger seat in agreement- and i wanted to rip the steering wheel off and let the crash auto-pilot itself. on that point of 84 there are no barriers, only rumble strips. we'd hear the sound and you'd both panic but i would bat my boring eyelashes at you and stare at my incorrect dashboard clock and just wait- it would go so slowly.
so i broke,
"I HAVE BEEN GLOWING ALL NIGHT, GODDAMNIT. THERE ARE MOONBEAMS SPURTING FROM MY CHEEKBONES AND GARNETS LIGHTING MY LIPS AND I AM TIRED. I AM TIRED OF THIS BULLSHIT. I SHOULDN'T HAVE TO FOLD MY HANDS IN MY LAP FOR YOU EVER AGAIN. I AM CELESTIAL AND NOTE-WORTHY. PLEASE TAKE NOTES ON THE WAY MY HAIR SWINGS WHEN I TURN MY DAMP FACE AWAY FROM YOU AND THE ROAD."
you tell me you're sorry and i tell you its just a complex. if you don't have a similarly advertised disorder by 2005, you'll be way out of style. money, medicine, receeding skeletons and all the pity you can eat at one sitting. in a word, PROGRESS.