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- eventually something you love is going to be taken away. and then you will fall to the floor crying. and then, however much later, it is finally happening to you: you’re falling to the floor crying thinking, “i am falling to the floor crying,” but there’s an element of the ridiculous to it - you knew it would happen and, even worse, while you’re on the floor crying you look at the place where the wall meets the floor and you realize you didn’t paint it very well.
- sorry about the blood in your mouth. i wish it was mine.
- tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us. these, our bodies, possessed by light. tell me we’ll never get used to it
- the blond boy in the red trunks is holding your head underwater / because he is trying to kill you / and you deserve it, you do, and you know this, / and you are ready to die in this swimming pool / because you wanted to touch his hands and lips and this means / your life is over anyway. / you're in eighth grade. you know these things. / you know how to ride a dirt bike, and you know how to do/ long division, and you know that a boy who likes boys is a dead boy, unless / he keeps his mouth shut, which is what you / didn't do, / because you are weak and hollow and it doesn't matter anymore.
- you’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won’t tell you that he loves you, but he loves you. and you feel like you’ve done something terrible, like robbed a liquor store, or swallowed pills, or shoveled yourself a grave in the dirt, and you’re tired. you’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you’re trying not to tell him that you love him, and you’re trying to choke down the feeling, and you’re trembling, but he reaches over and he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist, and you feel your heart taking root in your body, like you’ve discovered something you didn’t even have a name for.
feb 7 2013 ∞
dec 13 2014 +
dec 13 2014 +