we are a city, zooming, swinging, chasing every car. we are every atom and every cirrus cloud, skyscrapers and fruit trees, our touch is the electricity that runs through the thick black wires and powers the entire grid. your hand is the heart-stopping beat, your voice is song, and i am all the stars in your eyes.
we are duvets by fireplaces, the stitches in the fabric. bookshelves, nietzsche and rousseau, greek and the little prince and dante alighieri. two girls would be nice (”you sexist!”), bethel and aleithia. ‘house of God’, ‘the truth’: what we are, and what our lives are to radiate.
when your sneakers leave their tracks on the off-white tiles and you leave behind a trail of empty, words are all i have left.
i love words. i want to curl up in them and hold them close to my chest. i want to run my fingers over each one, memorise them, breathe them in. how mysterious it is that a little phrase makes one tremble.
your voice is a melody, your voice is warm and it wraps around me and a part of me detests that.
a summer drive away from dying; a broken heart, nothing to lose
i know it hurts so bad just trying to please the ones you hate to love
and i wrote this note about someone i used to know
so i’d remember how life can be so short when you’re left alone to wonder
how it is someone opens and shuts the door
i know you’re cold, but come home
it’s a shame how short we all have come
you set your mind on cruise control; knuckles grip the wheel in fear to let it go
love is empty, love is cruel, love it blindly breaks the rules
how could you have been a fool? it’s something all of us go through
you choke back tears and swallow lies but those wiper blades won’t fix your eyes
count on having clouded vision for at least a little while