the quiet boy just stares. squints. listens?
blue eyes that don't squirm or twist away when i pin them down with my searching brown ones.
(he has them - those eyes)
girl - that's me, is armed with an arsenal of lexicon.
he consumes my concotions, like this one (typed for the purpose of 'update and edit').
he reads while i write. i push forward, he pulls back.
at a comfortable pace, we drag this vessel's oars through a cold & salty current. the sun slips under the moon's burdening weight and the calendar crosses off days.
all those days that we forgot to wake up and realize we're not dreaming.
we were sleeping through the lives that we weren't living. we quit dreaming so long ago that i'm not scared to believe that they could be coming true.
i just name my fears, explain my tears and say all the things that good girls aren't supposed to reveal. like- i spread my thighs, point out my scars and clean my freshest, gaping wounds.
he watches. he settles himself into the gentle fold of empty space that traces my back while i don't sleep at night.
steady and unstable, we fall, but not into love - we're far too young and still not able.
but, enough about me. let's talk about you for awhile.
blue eyes that don't squirm or twist away when i pin them down with my searching brown ones.
(he has them - those eyes)
girl - that's me, is armed with an arsenal of lexicon.
he consumes my concotions, like this one (typed for the purpose of 'update and edit').
he reads while i write. i push forward, he pulls back.
at a comfortable pace, we drag this vessel's oars through a cold & salty current. the sun slips under the moon's burdening weight and the calendar crosses off days.
all those days that we forgot to wake up and realize we're not dreaming.
we were sleeping through the lives that we weren't living. we quit dreaming so long ago that i'm not scared to believe that they could be coming true.
i just name my fears, explain my tears and say all the things that good girls aren't supposed to reveal. like- i spread my thighs, point out my scars and clean my freshest, gaping wounds.
he watches. he settles himself into the gentle fold of empty space that traces my back while i don't sleep at night.
steady and unstable, we fall, but not into love - we're far too young and still not able.
but, enough about me. let's talk about you for awhile.
VIEW 25 of 45 COMMENTS
delusion said:
fuck you both for knowing it
So even though I know you didnt mean anything by it and that I am probably just being overly sensitive because I am kind of fragile right now, but I just have to say that reading that hurt a little. It makes me sad that you feel that way. I thought knowing you that well was a good thing, I have always considered it a good thing that you know me well enough to see past my bullshit.