Lunette (Where Feet Sleep)

...

I turned my body around in a circle
and placed my head where my feet usually sleep.
I recalled the windfall from the day before,
I'd told him, "Your first mistake was me."
In my dreams I hung myself with his briefcase lock
and got caught in between repeated metaphors.
In reality, I woke up with a heat lightning hangover,
and I just couldn't surrender to more.

Atoms are 99.999 percent empty space,
and their ditches aren't filled with anything at all.
It's discomforting to know I'm not touching your face,
but rather feeling oxygen form a wall.
But when I told him we were never really touching,
his supposition was we shouldn't bother.
And since I, my dear, believe in science,
I figure this must be for the better.

an: today I turned out to be such a tragedy. I texted a boy 15 years older than me.
I included an invitation to fuck me, and some Bright Eyes lyrics. Oh, why mush I represent
the new muillenium's ruined girls?