February 2012
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“we’re perfect on our own.”
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“and you kept us awake with wolves teeth.
sharing different heartbeats in one...”
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“this isn’t working, you,
my middlebrow fuck-up.”
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you will never.
you will never visit the city in which I live. you will never see the apartment in which I live. you will never see where I work. you will never sleep in my bed. you will never sit in my car again. you will never hold my hand. you will never sit on my sofa, chair, or stand in my kitchen whilst I make something. you will never use my shower. you will never see me naked again. you will never hold me...
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sometimes it just hits and it hurts.
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quiet.
exhausted. and I know this is just how you feel at the beginning of when something ends. and honestly, I’ve felt worse. but right now, my apartment feels more quiet, alone, and cold than it ever has. and I feel very on edge. this is just how it goes.
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