You said the world was wasted
“I love you.” She said, in sultry sheets and artificial cold.
“I love you”... like it was a lyric she’d never heard before. She felt it shaking in her guts. I know, because she told me so.
That crooning girl:
Held close to the boy she’d spoken to, praying for salvation or a better stroke of luck, she crooned. She was not the kind of person to go wasting up her youth. She was not the girl to lose control and forget she might know better. But she was, in every way.
And at the same time never so beautiful as she seemed then, next to someone she didn’t dare live without.
Isn’t it funny how we live our lives without certain people in them just fine. Before we know them we go about our routines and rituals like they don’t exist, because to us, they don’t. But once they’ve said their name into our ears we can’t possibly breath without them? I laughed when I thought of this, and her... That crooning girl, far away in God knows what shitty hotel room.
She has to push herself to pretend like she’s okay with all of these things just to keep her body in tact. It’s begging her to let it fall apart. It’s begging her to be good for someone else. It’s asking the impossible, and she’s on her knees for his lips to hers, screaming “there’s so much more than good enough”. She’d stay there forever if she had to; letting the skin around her knee caps swell with blood, pressured by monotony, because, God, he’s so much more than good enough.
“I love you”... like it was a lyric she’d never heard before. She felt it shaking in her guts. I know, because she told me so.
That crooning girl:
Held close to the boy she’d spoken to, praying for salvation or a better stroke of luck, she crooned. She was not the kind of person to go wasting up her youth. She was not the girl to lose control and forget she might know better. But she was, in every way.
And at the same time never so beautiful as she seemed then, next to someone she didn’t dare live without.
Isn’t it funny how we live our lives without certain people in them just fine. Before we know them we go about our routines and rituals like they don’t exist, because to us, they don’t. But once they’ve said their name into our ears we can’t possibly breath without them? I laughed when I thought of this, and her... That crooning girl, far away in God knows what shitty hotel room.
She has to push herself to pretend like she’s okay with all of these things just to keep her body in tact. It’s begging her to let it fall apart. It’s begging her to be good for someone else. It’s asking the impossible, and she’s on her knees for his lips to hers, screaming “there’s so much more than good enough”. She’d stay there forever if she had to; letting the skin around her knee caps swell with blood, pressured by monotony, because, God, he’s so much more than good enough.