I don't listen to what they say anymore,
I can just guess.
It's easy enough when you know the steps.
It's that
Salt-over-your-shoulder feeling.

choke my lungs,
sting my eyes,
numb my jaw,
shatter my ears,

Seventy-nine thousand words and not one of them said what I wanted it to.
Betrayal in the form of a novel.

He kisses, she clutches, and they call it love.
Such a superficial word but it doesn't matter to me anymore.
I'm immune.

BECAUSE I'M BULLETPROOF.

Love is green markers and a napkin,
A milkshake and a dirty diner,
The hum of cocaine as she slides him a dime.

It's that
Itchy-feet-get-away-from-this-place feeling.
This is one of those moments you wish you could frame.

I let go and the rain just washed me away. Pools of oil, drowned leaves, & a rainbow sun.
(i'm a hypocrite i know so

blind my eyes,
hobble my legs,
gas me,
beat me,
throw me in a cell)

Careful, if you walk slow you can trail your fingers in the sunshine.
But mind you, with one bullet you can't afford to miss.

somehow everything today seems bitter
things go so wrong so fast
i dont miss the person, more like the feeling

Stop by long enough to sit next to you, hold your hand, and for hours I would sit there still trying to soak up some essence of you.

("what a tacky sunset,

what a vulgar moon")

I'm philophobic to the bone.

Quote from "How Fucking Romantic" by The Magnetic Fields.