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i'd like to be a lover to you but i'd rather you not waste your time. i don't know if there's a point to our reckless abandon and our desperation. for you and i are locked in a box that is steadily closing in, yet we both have keys. yet we both seek not to use them. but we have not all the time in the world because these four walls are coming in fast. is there reason for kept secrets whispered over walkie talkies, love letters only spoken in thought, honeycomb, soft kisses shared and stolen in the betweens of this utterly real world?
i am not a storm, you know. i am not the storm you say i am for i do not possess beauty and peace, at least not the kind you want nor need. my beauty is like rage, rage that is harsh and hurts. i have never felt peace since the day i was born but when with you i can see it. can't touch it, no, because of the war in my bones but i can sense it's presence. and i want it badly, i want it so that i might give it you without even having to receive something in return. i want everything from you, everything of you, but i won't ask for it because i know that i may very well not be the one you should be everything to.
you kissed me in a dream, you actually loved me. but i feel like you'll come to hate me in this existence. because i cannot give anything to you, even though i have so much. what could i offer? what could i offer to a boy, mortal? you can't put your life on hold so that i might play catch up. i am so far behind. i fear i may miss you forever. and you're the greatest i've ever met, you're of the beautiful kind. but with your hand against my chest, with your fingers wrapped around my heart-well, what's a girl to do with a boy who could still the world?
for i am not a hot summer night. not fever, fever, fever like i wish to be. your flesh is corrosion incarnate. fuck the pretty words, man you stress me out!
