my fingers are numb.

I scribble treasure maps to lead you to me – you never
find them when I need you, bleeding for escapes and danger and
adventure, but oh, we aren’t an adventuring sort anymore,
to far gone on personal tragedies and alcohol, I hate you.

- you’re so intense, I whisper. You pull away,
drag your fingers down my throat, I plead, hurt me. hurt me.

I rub glitter through my hair, pretending it’s pixie dust, and lover,
you look hard tonight, I wonder if I could break you, snap you
into someone unimportant and lost. Join me down here, won’t you?

We’re all running.

A/n: erm. Not sure what this is, really. Word vomit, I guess. Ergh.