i told the moon about you.
i told her that you wear a smile like a gun.
i told the moon that I love pain,
so i pluck the funniest anecdotes from my brain
so you could **** me over and over again.
baby, do i sound insane?
it’s just a feeling i can’t explain.
like i’m in the eye of a hurricane
like i feel the fire from the flame
like a needle injecting drugs into my veins.
it’s the type of pain that keeps me sane.
i wrote this about my boyfriend. i don't like keeping diaries much because if i have a ****** day, my diary is physical proof that it actually happened. so, when good things happen, i dont want to write it down. i'm far too excited to keep calm and collected on pen and paper. so what do i do? i talk to the moon. i talked to her about this love fueling my day to day excitement. and she listened.