I didnt really wanna drink again tonight but my uncle bought me drinks and i feel obligated to drink them.
— Kill Your Darlings (2013)
— Fitzgerald, F. Scott. The Great Gatsby. (via wordsnquotes)
Here is my confession:
a conversation starter —
I like to set fires in my own heart.
You, a blessed rag doll.
You, venetian blinds,
a moth-eaten curtain.
Change the subject —
sometimes I wander the streets of my mind
wearing nothing but a lit cigarette.
I don’t smoke,
except after sex or
getting my heart broken, or all the time,
for that matter.
Tell me about yourself —
have you never been married to the moon?
It must be lonely out there,
counting stars by yourself.
I would kiss you,
but I’ve never been good at falling in love.
Neither have you, you say,
and we smile in the way
that does not reach our eyes.
A conclusion and parting —
we could’ve been a desert storm,
hearts blazing in a field of daisies
and tobacco lungs.
I have never touched your skin,
but here is my sorrow.
Take it — this is your attrition.
Walk east, kiss the sun,
and please forget my name.
I wanted to keep it, but I didn’t.
I knew there were things I should never find beautiful.
Like death. And girls.
Back home, the girls are not soft —
they pit peaches with their teeth,
drink sadness like they’re starving.
They always dance alone,
listen to songs with lyrics
about strawberry wine.
They blossom like beer bottles,
wear october on their shins,
split open, screaming —
a foreign rose
for a fight.
You are not the only heart
I have swallowed.
You are not the only hand
that feels love backwards.
life hack: make out w/ me and tell me i’m cute
I wanna be cuddled right now and have my back rubbed until I fall asleep.