Hey, oh, hey oh oh oh, to be made of glass

[bloodrebel333]

17: You say yes like it's a curse, an oath, but don't mean any of it. You touch people like they're the only chances you'll ever have, you touch their souls with your fingers, you touch their skin. There are friends, sometimes, you drift in and out of parties, classes, tents together. There are also prizes, press releases, ghost girls and ghost

Comments

[kat_lair]

30: you realise you wasted years and hard cash for someone who was never worth it but who can still make you cry. you have someone new who is worth more than you are allowed to give and they too can make you cry though not intentionally. she says "sometimes i think we're just hurting ourselves here" and you know she's right but it won't make a difference because sometimes you have to take what you can get and what you want even when it's neither smart nor right. there are bloodied stone hearts and knife scars and nothing is ever easy and nothing ever comes free. why is it that such an old lesson still comes as surprise every time? you dare to hope only in secret. you still get up every morning even though you can't always find a reason to.

[bloodrebel333]

27: You get up thinking you're happy, or at least content, and you go to the same bed each night with the same sleeping form beside you (or: not beside you [yet?]), but it doesn't matter, because you're doing things and there are people in your life and not all of them are as happy as you are and you should be happy, right? You should be grateful for the work and the house and the sex and the friends and the money and the happiness, at least. You notice the lemonade is too sweet, and keep it in your mouth, don't swallow, and take another gulp of water in your mouth - let the lemonade mix into something better in your mouth. You don't read as much as you used to, don't write as much poetry, but: there's always tv, the newspaper, radiolife, radiosilence, meaningless talks but talks nonetheless. Even the blood is the same. Especially the blood. Somehow, sometime during all of this, you forgot how to enjoy the things that meant a lot, before.