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Description
the wall in our brains that denies thoughts from taking over regarding certain topics- I broke that wall down. I could die in a blizzard tomorrow and you'd be left with the last words you said to me- a winter dream snowing on you for good.

you were the ache of trying to remember that awful thought I just had, and being with you was not being able to see a damn thing because I didn't have my glasses on. it was spilling milk and trying to clean it up, yet only spilling more. but who cares? so I spilled some milk, big deal. it was stupid to apologize for all the little mistakes I made when you never apologized for yours.

you didn't have blood in your veins sometimes. sometimes I tasted your static, saw the radio buzz in your eyes. you're a machine. a lot of the time you weren't in your body when I held you. maybe that's why it constantly felt like I could never hold you close enough. and now you're the cold tea in my cup, the spark of rage when I've got words to write but no paper, dammit, and all the frustration that follows next. I'd like to think you're responsible. I'd also like to get a tattoo in a place only the truest of lovers would get to see. it'll be intimate, like a piece of me from the inside coming out. flashlights blinding my soul, personally being exposed to the world.

anyway, it was nice seeing you. it was nice when you text messaged me at 6 in the morning asking to see me, whether you were drunk or not. because even if you were drunk, at least there were a few seconds where you thought of me and probably contemplated if you should or shouldn't say what you were thinking. that's what being with you was like this whole time. always unsure if I should do this and say that, never knowing what was allowed. so it was nice seeing you, but it was better when I was experiencing you with all five senses. I miss the freckles on your shoulders and your lip ring and the way you smoked your cigarettes, but something drained the passion out of you.

maybe it's not as complicated as emotions vanishing into thin air. maybe she came back to you, and maybe I wish you'd cling to me the way you secretly had been clinging to her this whole time. or the way cats hold on tight the moment you're about to drop them. yeah, I wanted to drop you on your ass and have you dig your nails into me real deep. maybe someone needs to inject me with the fear of attachment already, so I can back away from boys like you. maybe I should give up, but tell me, what would be beautiful about that?

Description
the wall in our brains that denies thoughts from taking over regarding certain topics- I broke that wall down. I could die in a blizzard tomorrow and you'd be left with the last words you said to me- a winter dream snowing on you for good.

you were the ache of trying to remember that awful thought I just had, and being with you was not being able to see a damn thing because I didn't have my glasses on. it was spilling milk and trying to clean it up, yet only spilling more. but who cares? so I spilled some milk, big deal. it was stupid to apologize for all the little mistakes I made when you never apologized for yours.

you didn't have blood in your veins sometimes. sometimes I tasted your static, saw the radio buzz in your eyes. you're a machine. a lot of the time you weren't in your body when I held you. maybe that's why it constantly felt like I could never hold you close enough. and now you're the cold tea in my cup, the spark of rage when I've got words to write but no paper, dammit, and all the frustration that follows next. I'd like to think you're responsible. I'd also like to get a tattoo in a place only the truest of lovers would get to see. it'll be intimate, like a piece of me from the inside coming out. flashlights blinding my soul, personally being exposed to the world.

anyway, it was nice seeing you. it was nice when you text messaged me at 6 in the morning asking to see me, whether you were drunk or not. because even if you were drunk, at least there were a few seconds where you thought of me and probably contemplated if you should or shouldn't say what you were thinking. that's what being with you was like this whole time. always unsure if I should do this and say that, never knowing what was allowed. so it was nice seeing you, but it was better when I was experiencing you with all five senses. I miss the freckles on your shoulders and your lip ring and the way you smoked your cigarettes, but something drained the passion out of you.

maybe it's not as complicated as emotions vanishing into thin air. maybe she came back to you, and maybe I wish you'd cling to me the way you secretly had been clinging to her this whole time. or the way cats hold on tight the moment you're about to drop them. yeah, I wanted to drop you on your ass and have you dig your nails into me real deep. maybe someone needs to inject me with the fear of attachment already, so I can back away from boys like you. maybe I should give up, but tell me, what would be beautiful about that?