sunmoonstarsrain
Her words are coated with flour. They are making words, finishing words. When she speaks the particles fly out of her mouth, settling on me like a home.
Sureness. It's what we all want, I think. We want to be sure in our happiness, our success, our reality. Sure he loves us, sure she idolizes us... uncertainty hurts.
My dad is a police officer, so I kind of hate it when people are so much hating on them for being lazy/overly watchful, what have you! :( They rock, man! (Sorry, really tired today)
Fire like the one that cracks in my living room. Fire like the one that burns my legs when I run. Fire like the sky at sunset. Fire like a person's eyes. Fire like my soul when I read a poem.
Actual is real, and real is alive. I want to be alive, stripped to the bone and fluttered against the wind, alive like birds and dirt and cries and everything that makes you feel. I want to be actual.
leaves, hopes, dust, sound. we scatter things that matter to us, or things we want to get away. i scatter leaves like i scatter my cries, and they float away with none the wiser.
To sate or not to sate, that is the question ... Whether 'tis nobler to be skinny and hungry, or chubby and happily full?
Five was the name of my heart. After five seconds, I renamed her. To match the moment it all shifted, the bombs fell and the murder was laid. Five doesn't change.