Oct 2014
1:34 a.m.:
without words, you went to sleep and i got drunk. because when the world doesn't want to see your face, the easiest way to deal with the pain is to make it feel like you don't have one.
7:56 a.m.:
i've decided to write a manifesto using only sounds from your mouth. the crackles and pops of the radio silence radiating from your lips will be the ink to my pen.
3:35 p.m.:
i press my palms together, hoping to drain the last bit of ambivalence from my fingertips. i wonder how many times i must fall and scrape my knees on the prayer bench before i realize that prayer is not my forte and both you and god **** at listening.
without words, you went to sleep and i got drunk. because when the world doesn't want to see your face, the easiest way to deal with the pain is to make it feel like you don't have one.
7:56 a.m.:
i've decided to write a manifesto using only sounds from your mouth. the crackles and pops of the radio silence radiating from your lips will be the ink to my pen.
3:35 p.m.:
i press my palms together, hoping to drain the last bit of ambivalence from my fingertips. i wonder how many times i must fall and scrape my knees on the prayer bench before i realize that prayer is not my forte and both you and god **** at listening.
