we haltingly speak of surrealism in our broken french, of love and brie and clocks

mercutio DROWNS in mab's lies hair caught in chariot spokes dragged along the streets. GRATEFUL he dies. consuming phosphorus it thrashes between his bones, mutilates his heart with longing

you were dead, or dying. or was it real? i confuse surreality with truth, unless they are the same thing.

eightyfour trespasses through nirvana, but she still can’t figure out if fate tastes like sugar-lemon-tea (or all). DRINK ME: (there are too many things)

They say Paris is the capital of poets.

the world’s been wanting to end, the last couple of days. no, months, she thinks, maybe months- [pre-apocalyptic]

i will outline every piece of you until you are nothing but simple language. [experiment in pure description]

james blunt & i hate watching you

it was only in the beginning that she refused to comprehend the metaphor of the sun

an experiment in bolding/italics and french (which, by the way, i do not speak at all.)

(and you only love me when i’m not there) this is the aftermath of you&me.

la autora original: peter pan nightmares; esto es una traducción: to the author: if you have any objections, please notify me immediately. “fuimos un accidente de carretera que estaba esperando a pasar”

named morning star and mourned fallen by silver tongues; he is nothing, and he sometimes reviles in his shame. [christian mythology; i have a feeling this shouldn't be here but oh well]

he’s as beautiful as butterflydust and radioactive cscl [tribute to first semester chem. so glad it’s over.]

(now the bone and nothing more.)the vacant absence of flesh [based on a dream sequence]

love, stop reading hope in epileptic smiles

don't lie to me, lover, (you know i don't like that); lover let's reminisce (of when you still liked it-

kept awake by caffeine, chipping away at coffee stores with late-night hours, cramming (and regretting the having-to-cram... [literally written during an english final]