"Tell me am I glamorus?"
I want to be pretty like them, like those girls I'm watching cross the street, smiling brightly at each other in jean shorts.
"Stolen images, baby stolen images."
How do I understand that?
What does it mean?
I don't know what I know and what I don't, like poetry.
Just understanding the words
About stars
About kissing
About sadness
About skin.
It doesn't make sense.
I don't make sense.
"Hello hello?
c-can you hear me?
I can be your china doll, if you like to see me fall..."
I get that. How? Why? I don't know how I know, or what. Its just as if somewhere deep inside everything makes sense.
"Nothing without you."
That makes sense.
I understand knowing that, that is you.
That feels like you, burning my throat in such an eager rush to get my clothes off.
That feels like you, kissing down my neck to shut me up to hear my heartbeat.
That feels like you, holding me when I can't think of the right words, when I can't say sorry.
That feels like you.
I think I finally understand that I know.
I have never known these things till you, till them.
Till now.
Pray for my soul.
