peep the Boston reference (:
Love is something that never seems to last, or really even begin in terms of MY life.
If I could, I would heat the feeling inside of a spoon until it bubbled, mainlining it into my veins until they burst.
That way, the feeling would never fade.
I would bottle it and set it by the windowsill so it could soak in as much moon and sun as possible.
It wouldn't be able to leave then.
Love to me is more of a give than a receive, excluding various few.
If things were my way, which they never are, love would be a burning hot ballad of heavenly guitar and vocals sharp enough to cut through the riff.
Love would be an everlasting life of blissful dances rather than short increments of falsity.
Perhaps one day.
