insomnia's my bestfriend now it greets me like a curse. midnight treats me like a child it's seen cases that are worse. sleeping doesn't matter
when tomorrow won't arrive, the train it's on is off the tracks and no one's still alive. i'm stuck inside today again i'll restate every word i
hope they catch your ears this time for once i want to be heard.
I'm so restless, don't you know i'm restless, and i know you're restless, aren't you restless?
At least when we would fall before the landings wouldn't crash now we turn to smoke and flames and all that's left is ash. i've got charcoal in my
mailbox from your letters set ablaze and the distance that's between us is a never ending maze. Forget the clocks, forget the time the street lamps
stay on all night and we'll use them to guide our way and meet under the light. i hope you can stay up late enough for the sky to swallow up the sun,
i'm so restless but i'll try to sleep, and meet you when i'm done.
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Just a series of brisk glances she grabbed out the corner of her eye. The tilt of his chin; the mischevious glint in his eye; the shift of his
shoulder as he moved to find a more comfortable position. The chair felt too small and as her body hugged against its arm, pressed against his hipbone
and side.
Her own hands were traitor, enough, tracing erratic patterns on the fabric of the chair, and everynow and then his neck/face/lips, and drifting to
touch her pulse settled in the curve of her neck as she continued to capture the snapshot moments from beneath her eyelashes. There was a video
playing on the television in the corner, and everyone else in the room was enraptured with the damn thing. She had her own rapture to think about and
it was sitting just an inch away..
Oh how she missed him now that she sat alone. cold in her room. music repeating, repeating..
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Let's write letters and form sentences from each other's structure. ..identities will pass and fade, we'll merge, and finally you'll feel all of
my heart. I'll brace you and we'll jump together, so I break your fall. ..so you aren't hit with all of me all the time... all at once. so I can
make sure you aren't closing your eyes to shut as much of me out as you can. because I whole-heartedly love you and whole-heartedly push tears into
the fabric of my pillowcases lately. you're rough, and stinging. but maybe I'm a kid. but even kids have feelings too. more magnified and
florescent, yes. but we're all composed of relative natures and swarming hues. we're all substance, just contained and grouped in different sets of
value and color. In deep oceans and foggy midnight moonrisings. your sharp autumn days and pools of tangerine glaze. warm and blended. yet your
texture's changing in my direction. spines are forming in the places where I hold your hips and palms and wish for a glance, acknowledgement. a word
written for me of me when the world around you doesn't know my name. and I've thought of privacy a thousand times. rolling the word around in my
mouth. how those characters composed in such a combination both kindle happiness and comfort, but harbor a painful awakening inside me. private even
from your most private affairs.
I miss imaginative bodies. and when I wisper I miss yous and love in your ears.
it's my expression of how my body has seen a drought of your hands, your hair at the ends of my fingertips.
and all those classified images that I wish were mine only forever.
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