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08.15.03::16:16 believe this. these two words are /tearing/ me apart &;i;m losing faith &;losing ground &;looking at the bottoms of bottles. words always make sense when you look at them through green glass &;i make more sense when import beer scratches my throat.
so maybe i;ll blink at you;; killing myself slowly &;smoke ringsb ;round yr face. &;maybe you;ll laugh like you always do, eyes rolling into my head ---xmock ecstacy from paperedleaves &;paperedhearts. &;i;ll talk stories in seconds &;you;ll shake yr head;; &;i;ll trip over my own words that i left out to grab you. &;maybe i;ll just be drinking alone tonight,underneath playgrounds and drawing pictures on my arms. too bad sharpies aren;t. necromancy. |