andy-murray
Words are the only goddamn pacifier. It's only half, if not less, of the time. Listen to me, talking shit to the world like I amount to anything more than a (barely) uniquely formulated clump of star dust. I don't even know why the neurotransmitters in my brain choose to move in these directions, but I make blind assumptions that those directions are profound and somehow beautiful. Like they're charging across the plain(s) in the name of fucking manifest destiny.
There aren't enough outlets
I've checked the nook
I've checked the office
I have, of all places, checked
The garage
There aren't enough outlets
I AM BRIMMING
******* brimming, I tell you
With all sorts of brilliant
Electronics.
Jul 7, 2010
Jul 7, 2010 at 10:08 PM UTC
You said the drugs showed you ****
**** you didn't want to see
My phone is apparently abstinent
One of those nights
Where I played with the idea of
Slumber
I saw the jagged edges
Of your silver lining
Painted you black
Every ******* color
Mingling and singing
And *******
You were *******
I was ******* tired
What ironic timing
For you to have
Your wisdom teeth removed
Jun 4, 2010
Jun 4, 2010 at 8:08 AM UTC