(no subject)

[stop_now_gogogo]

In this hollowed hour all we needs baptismal water, depending on the second fall of Rome to lift these tired bodies to the shore line (catch yourself a piece of rubble, say you were there) stare across the sea. But instead we take loud music, who will be your friend in the ocean of bodies? Hips orbit around the push and pull of everyone else, sweat rolls down like rain on a windshield. Who will be your savior when the doors close and the bars are empty? The street has no  gravity pull so you're floating away on some sort of tangent. Who will be your lover when you've grown tired of everyone around? An empty bed is a lake of covers and you're drowning in all that empty space.
I'm drowning in all this empty space.

I have to work, I have to break my own heart because if I don't...everyone else would.
Oh, july, july!