I literally feel nothing at all and I just wanna fuck I wanna drink champagne and sit on the floor
No idea why my anxiety is
Thru the roof! Liars know when they’re being lied to and thieves know when they’re being robbed,
Don’t they?
And don’t they just give it
Right back
Don’t I just give it right back?

I’m not in love
I wanna throw up
Or like I said earlier,
Fuck,
I wanna drink on the nice clean floor.
Can you tell I’m so dodgy
Can you tell I’m not ready
Can you tell I don’t like anything
Even tho I laugh hysterically?

Peering out from in here, my eyes are SO OBVIOUS I almost love him for ignoring me. But anyways,  I’m wondering where he is tonight. 
I’m crawling outta my skin, everything feels like it’s on the edge
I’m covered in ants and I just wanna fuck.

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Stopped by/trench coat

Figures behind the stained glass casting shadows over where I’m dreaming- frankincense&myrrh
gas the room
here they come
I’m fucking sleeping

She forgot what she was going to do

Eyes shut down for
brain repairs- ok,
a year went by.
This is how it is now: mens heavy hands grip her waist
Electric fingers comb across her lips and press down her hips
Tattooed skin
Every night
All the time
During the days,
she spends countless hours at tables
kicking the leather shoes of movie star strangers,
Just like lounging millionaire daters
Who casually mingle their legs under tables:
Who don’t make promises:
He’s her lover now
This is life
This is only just life
Tubes of colors and light,
Oh we’re not like them we don’t talk like that
And we sure fuck alright

On the sets,
At the diners,
waves pour out of their legs and neon eyes and lonely mouths and she stares at you smiling and she wants you
And you know this is the good part
she wants to walk on the ground with you
and wrap her arms around your waist
and tuck her head under your face
you feel so good
Come on
Press play
Now she’s having vague dreams of a plastic lunch on a plastic table on a pastel bus cafe.
Slice of cheap cake on paper plates.
Nothing to stay asleep for or
Drudge up later
FUCK
I can’t ——– break it.
shall I?
Imagine if i just sat down to write out some love poems today, ha !
Just sat right down
on the typewriter
Just to be nice
Yes I’ll write one for every finger
One for our knees and
one to my long lost lover/teacher
Thanks for the swim in her neon river.
She might never think again.