⇘
» AND EVERYDAY I WONDER
HOW I LOST THE FACE THAT
YOU HAD FALLEN IN LOVE WITH,
THAT I HAD GROWN TO LOVE. «
» regular updates
usually
monday
around
18:00 GMT+2
&
...
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' but if you loved me, why'd you leave me? '
mouth. lips. tongue. they tasted like cherry wine and cheap vodka, we played tag-you're-it on rainy days with them. and in summer blazes, they fell apart, gently drawn over tanned-freckle spotted necks. smoke invested, a stench followed years after us. you called it coping, i called it bullshit. you said no one really cared, i whispered, not anymore.
eyes. soul. done. bright, an electric kind, with deep volume and catastrophic destructive matter, just like your mind. bleeding pupils still haunt my night terrors. waves of hunger is what they are, dunked in a pretty color, a neon blur.
our love was a secret kind, which whispered through paper thin walls. balanced and fell through empty halls. i knew, but you didn't. which made everything a thousand times more exhilarating.
high blonde ponytail, perfect betty, plastic smile. a laugh which could drive the sanest man wild. open book, but a closed-off heart. emotion and loyalty yards apart. grey dim lights over tennis fields, playing hooky, falling in lucky. parting ways for days but sucking on old bruises the following weekends. the chaotic kind of organized, the broken and paralyzed to the one bone that would've kept me there.
i'm secretly wishing for another day, another month, another year with you. just one last taste of our fire spitting joy, one last taste of us, of you.
burned out cigarettes, clogged up minds, sipping whisky in the courtyard, losing all rational sight, creme colored fake nails, made up lies, fake tan on, white lace, pink lips, lucid wishes, watered down drinks, running from your mother on a Saturday night, falling out with your father in this Sunday morning light.
i'm secretly wishing for another day, another month, another year with you. just one last taste of our fire spitting joy, one last taste of us.
we could've been whatever we wanted to be
if only you'd been able to give in
and i'd been able to admit
our own self-admitted flaws
the death of a friendship
i'm secretly wishing for another day, another month, another year with you. just one last taste of our fire spitting joy, one last taste of us.
