She

with the softened hips of a woman made to love
was always at a loss.

CLEAN GETAWAY

: what was had.

I just want to be a Bond Girl.
Brosnan's a fox, but Connery is far classier.
I am so torn. :C

Either way, Donnie kicks my ass at golden-gun,
and slappers-only is only ever a good idea in theory.

The sound of floorboards in a state of unrest convinces me that everyone will suddenly discover my secrets.

It's usually cats, though.
It's always usually cats.

Away

Vodka and Kool-Aid and Trampolines.
Summer behavior in a strictly winter town,
but when you're dreaming about the people you've never met
I don't think you should feel at home.
Bruises from purgatory and
the only thing keeping you warm are the moccasins you stole.

Nothing compares,
I am sick and I love you.

Get me out, get me out, get me away.

But, oh, how we love to feel it spin!

Binary

Sirius and the black hole were swimming in the sky
when Sirius tripped, and she started to cry.

She said,
"Someday all that will remain of me are
the atoms you stole and your memories,
but you always forget what really means most
and you treat the now like it's some kind of
ghost of the past,
NOTHING CAN LAST
(but you always forget),
and you'll lose me, too, someday all too soon."

The lights started dimming and her atoms all stretched,
and the black hole watched her as she took her last breath and he stood helpless;

he knew what he was doing
but he never could stop
and he had to keep moving.

I am not a poet, but sometimes I feel.

He proposed to me with his coffee ring
and said, "I can't promise you anything, but I love you for now."
And when I asked him how,
he held me close to his heart
and I felt the black hole start to pull me apart.
He gave me a smoke, and he joked while I choked that--

"We're all dying, anyway,

so today the best we could do is to

stay together or lay together

and say that we'll never obey

someone other than the sun,

and even then we'll run from

anyone who calls us out for feeling

numb, and you, my lovely, will

finally see the horrible monsters

that occupy me and my bones and my brain;

that make me insane.

I'm in love, but this life is only inane.

I am only a name

and you're trapped in my dreams.

We must tear this reality down at the seams

and finally prove all is not as it seems."

And he kissed me and laughed,

but it broke him in half and

the two-headed boy finally dropped his last mask.

(In other news, je ne sais pas si c'est vous ou moi.)
Disassociate.

Incoherent

and inarticulate
and incapable
and insomniatic.

olderthanthenight.

Sometimes it is like I am in love with the sea,
and when I am away I am just empty, and longing, and tragic.
Nothing could compare to the draw to fall to the tides like ichor,
and nothing could ever be the same.
I am always pulled toward melancholy and troubled thoughts,
distance.
Like maybe if we hold tight enough, I will feel whole again.
Like maybe if I hold my breath a little longer.
Like maybe if I am the one who answers your questions.

But if we are living in our heads, when are we real?

It is like we are a binary system: just two black holes.