12/2/16
get it out any way you can spill it, spill the hot coals and then coil around them! take note, with the hand that squeezes overripe fruit for fun it's not the time you want to write down but the way the juice feels every time I see your skin, I think of becoming a paleontologist. swear to god. and I can't tell if the sinking of my insides of my body is because there's a large boat in there, drowning, or it's love or it's waiting or it's winter I just can't tell. I'm acting like a pack of dogs, and their bones are howling blood and fresh pussy. the entire past year we have gotten to know the Decay of suppression. we agreed to let the jigsaw fall, and the birds migrate and the total loss of inhibitions and I've tried I've gone out late I've kissed someone else on a park bench, my hand between his thighs I've pulled the fingers deeper but my body is a canyon. why do I give myself to anyone at all the further away something is from me, the more I ache for it