it was good lounging around
sleeping and sighing and screwing around
blinds drawn, open close
inhale, exhale
wondrous endorphins, riding this high

it was our little world, save us from them
the oppressors, the people who didn’t -get- it
it was good hanging around
running and hiding from responsibilities
growing up, growing old
decisions i didn’t want to face
hide under the covers and procrastinate

it was hard, riding home
no call, no message, no fuck given
i sat on the greyhound, quietly crying
the whole two hour ride home

it was a memory when i was twenty
thick and heavy, sweet like honey
swimming in sin and escaping responsibility
inevitably wondering,
do you still think of me



when you fall apart before you even had a chance, it’s hard to forget. there’s always these infinite possibilities, picture perfect scenarios, gram-worthy photo stocks

i ask myself why it’s so damn hard to forget, if i’m just a hedonist trying too damn hard to hold on to it.

i tell myself i’m not alone. you expressed the same sentiment, once.

i ask myself why it’s so damn hard to forget, if we’re both just pleasure-seeking junkies awaiting our next sweet hit.

i remind myself that there was pain. lots of it, probably endless amounts spilling over, if i’d continued to stay.

i ask myself if you knew what you were doing, dousing and lighting and nursing my wounds.┬áplay rescue doctor and evil surgeon until i’m nothing but ruins

put morphine through the needle, i’ll try to forget. my body grows lifeless; seeds of paranoia, resentment, and disgust are met.



Trust is weird, comfort is dangerous, and your eyes are full
A delicate silhouette, rising and falling
I can almost trace out the second
I realized you were in love with someone
Pure wonder in a dream wasteland
The careful concave, automatic exhale
A woven story, determined to fail.