I cannot write if I am not in love and it is so **** annoying.

I believe in beautiful things
I believe in change

she liked to steal old matches
her soul drenched in Santal
thoughts deeper than the canyons,
slurred in her sozzled calls

with rose gold colored eyes,
she grabs your rusty match tin
but if you hand your heart to her
you won't see that again

she hides in her rose bathtub
silk bathrobe, as expected
builds castles made of bubbles
and hearts that she's neglected

electric lips drooling the words i can't swallow,
technicolor thoughts too far for me to follow

& How Surreal Is This

One hand on the wheel, the other holding yours ///
I remember being in third grade trying to read your name tag on the corner of your desk in home room the first day I saw you actually
Fast forward 14 years old when you kissed me in my kitchen that summer night after catching fireflies and no one could slap that grin off my face

Here we are, Christmas Eve, and it's like nothing's ever changed you told me; you're the one thing that's never changed  

And I just couldn't stop laughing- eight, twelve, seventeen, twenty three.

So he grabbed my face and slurred something along the lines of if we made it to 26 without a family in our near future we'd have to make one of our own and ****** you know 15 years and 6 jack & cokes later I wasn't about to turn you down.

( & i've always loved that **** dog of yours )

two thousand nine hundred and forty six microscopic tiny shards of glass stuck in my hand is the only equivalent feeling to hearing your name

six months later and i keep finding hidden pieces in my palms

/ just when i thought my hands were numb i saw the silky red dress i wore the day my hand hit the glass and all i want to do is throw up

six word story