06.08.03 . 1:43 a.m.
395: come baby, let's drown

a blanket of water, a blanket of smoke. a carpet of vomit. we dance because we're supposed to or; what else can we do. running out of options. rebels on the run, cursing on the walls. some day i'll be cursing for everyone to hear, losing it for everyone to see. this is just a taste of it.

my memory is slowly destructing itself. some days are easy to bring back, but most are empty and black. probably not worth remembering, i tell myself. the sun is still up &i know how i longed for this during winter, how sure i was i'd never make it. now that it's finally here, i hardly give a damn. that's how it always goes, wanting things, then discarding them. my lust is never a good excuse, but it is a reason. to set goals and mark my property before owning it. to hear you breathing &to notice we're doing it together, the exact same rhythm, perfect timing. lost arms and legs, asleep but really always pretending. what else can i do, scream out the naked truth &be damned or hanged? reality has so little to offer me.



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