I said I’d post after finals but that was stuck in my head.

“Happiness is a myth.” You exhaled into the air as the night ran its circus around us and we were still; caught in everything and nothing.
“I think you don’t remember your childhood,” I replied. 
“I remember you.” My skin shivered as I remembered who we were.
“I’ve never made you happy.” At least I was honest.
“If I could, I’d make my whole life about you.” I wish you were honest.
“I have to go.” I wish you were honest.
 

I’ll post something after finals. Wish me luck.

I think about writing you a lot. How sometimes you smile without warning and you don’t want me to see but I do. How sometimes you’re so close to me I can’t tell where I end and you begin. How sometimes your eyes reflect the sun so perfectly I can’t admit to myself that you exist in the same life as me. I think about writing you a lot, and then I realize how little time I have to put all your person onto paper. I would write you in the sky if I could so that everyone can know but I don’t have the height or the ink required so I settle for paper and a kiss. I would write you around the world if I could; inscribing us into every swollen continent and around every pulsing body of water.

The wind just felt nice and I liked the way you smiled. It was summer or maybe it was heaven and I can’t be sure because I’ve never seen summer in heaven but I imagine that it’s beautiful. Anyway, the wind tugged at our fingers and I liked how you were smiling with your lips and your eyes and the little kisses in between everything. Everything is hard to be and hard to do and you try but you can only do some and some isn’t half bad but half bad could be better. I think you were the better. I think you were the better of everything and then some and half bad and perfect. How can I have anything else after you? How can I be anything else after you? The wind was perfect and not half bad, but you were better. 

I love when music comes with an atmosphere

deadbooks:

I became infatuated as I watched the smell of rain seep into the walls of my bedroom and melt the paint down in elaborate swirls. It was a new June morning that I decided I’d had enough with four walls and a ceiling, so I took my fist and crushed a hole near my bed and through the ceiling. My dreams used to write themselves on the walls but now they make it all the way to the crescent edges of the moon and flourish on the pinpricks of star corners, all while I rest above my blanket on the precipice of each universe. 

“You know those days when you want rain but all you get is the smell beforehand? That’s how I feel.”
If we were clouds, you’re the highest one. 

“Yeah.”  
And probably the biggest.

“It’s all your fault.”  
The one that you only see when you’re content on the grass with the best time of your life.

“Yeah.”

I became infatuated as I watched the smell of rain seep into the walls of my bedroom and melt the paint down in elaborate swirls. It was a new June morning that I decided I’d had enough with four walls and a ceiling, so I took my fist and crushed a hole near my bed and through the ceiling. My dreams used to write themselves on the walls but now they make it all the way to the crescent edges of the moon and flourish on the pinpricks of star corners, all while I rest above my blanket on the precipice of each universe. 

The moon howled, delirious 
with the fear of being
swallowed by the sun-
Shelter only comes in the
form of blinking
and breathing
and I haven’t yet touched 
your
skin;
I am abandoning creation
for words that fit well together-
Desperation howled, delirious
with the fear of being
swallowed by the sane. 

Prom was ridiculously fun. I’m running on 3 hours of sleep. Time for Hessler street fair.

deadbooks:

Maybe the world fell in love without me. 

I don’t know what
that means but doesn’t it
sound romantic?

Doesn’t it sound lonely?

I don’t know what
it means
but I know that I’ve said it.
Couldn’t tell you what
that means
but I know that I’ve felt it.  

Maybe the world fell in love without me. 

I don’t know what
that means but doesn’t it
sound romantic?

Doesn’t it sound lonely?

I don’t know what
it means
but I know that I’ve said it.
Couldn’t tell you what
that means
but I know that I’ve felt it.