i think of you on days that are most mundane. you fill the space of boredom with more than a thought, but a movement. we are an infinite end. holding our cores, while balancing on boulders. should i be afraid? why do i like it? i can only spin myself around my apartment for so long. i feel sick. i'd like your arms to run into. six more minutes please. i'd like six more. a headstart would be wonderful. leap. i'm. leaping. lea.p. haha. that's how your art reads to me sometimes. there's a playfulness you display that a child would tip their hat off to. my vision buzzes with color and you're just being yourself. open your rib-cage just a little for me, won't you? i want to kiss your bones you. i don't care if it's magnificent or not. i only care that it's human.
there is so much to try if you find the right one to try it with. i want to try everything. i've been holding back.
clay rises from beneath our pores, broken and molded we've been. we're back in the dampness, ready for the pressure of each other's thumbs. i like clay because when you press hard into it, a hole takes shape, and it wraps around your finger. we're like that in many ways. the deeper we go, the more pressure applied, the more we cling. i should be scared but i won't be. i'm letting life carry me softly into this. it feels good to be clay. tip-toeing star-shapes on nude-brain-mush. i want more with you.
germansingergirl
discoholicmusic
baratheonpilled
titsay
snowghoul
gummygunk
