swagmachine
You're not an artist. you're just a little boy who wants to be an artist.
And you always put me down, I remember; you didn't even congratulate me when my drawing sold for $80 at a small art show. You hardly even flinched.
But then you showed me your newest anime. It looked like all the rest, really.
But I smiled. "you're so talented,"
That one night when you came home drunk you said you were the horniest you'd ever been.
So we had sex. and it was the best sex we'd ever had.
The next morning you were laughing, saying you were embarrassed of how you had mauled me, how you had so intensely attacked me. And I laughed with you.
I told you it was okay. That you were obviously really drunk.
I even kind of made fun of the fact you were so fucking horny and the funny thing is,
I was even worse. Even hornier. I was sober.
I'll never tell you, probably. Though I'll never quite know why.
I wonder what it feels like to fly like a bird but like a plane like without feathers like it'd feel so smooth and refreshing and beautiful.
Holy fucking shit, I am so baked right now, does that even make sense.
I stood at the train station and felt the rain drip down from the tip of my nose. I was miserable. And what was funny, was that I was always miserable. Whether it rain or shine. And when I realized that, standing at that dark, cloudy train station, I became more miserable. Miserable in my miserable misery. It sure was the life to live.
my kindergarten teacher hated me. she said i never kept my mouth shut. it's funny because i loved her to fucking pieces. worshiped her. i even have this old picture of us together, with my scribbled 'i love you' across it i wrote before moving onto 1st grade, already missing sitting in her classroom, moving my class bear from 'good' to 'bad' on the reg.
he kissed the skin on my neck right where my jaw began, and then lower, closer to my ear. we both knew it was wrong but somehow we just stopped caring.
she said wearing plaid made her feel fat, which didn't make much sense when you thought about it. that was why she hated mccallcus high school, she'd tell us, because the plaid skirts were required, but she wasn't one who'd break the rules anyway.
writing since 2011 · 7 entries · 6 days shown up
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miserablefunnyfuckingplaidsensehatedmovingtrainstationraindrunksexartistwearingfatmccallcus