how can i move?
there’s a girl in a room that i thought was mine, until i came in and saw her laying in my bed, in the same position, the same spot, i planned to lay in.
she’d have a blanket over her head, with the ends tucked under the back of her head and the back of her heels so she could lay face up without the sunrise intruding the darkness she yearned for.
i’d stare; in thirty seconds the posters on my walls would no longer exist, as if a camera had to a different shot in a film. i’d stare, and in thirty more seconds there’d be no more carpet. another thirty, and there would just be space, and loss of identity.
thirty more, and the girl had no blanket to shield her. her eyes were open, vacant: occupied.
i was starving.
her head lolled to the side, in my direction, but i would never be what occupied her eyes.
was it love? delusion? i could only read her to a certain extent. i was starving.
...
i just wanna feel like you wanna hear me.
