Jul. 24th, 2014

anonymousblack: (desparation)
sex is like christmas, but it hurts.
and whatever you get, you always want more.
and if you don't get anything new, well,
at least you can play with your old toys.

and there's always something left unsaid
and there's always something you could have done better
and there's always something that is

probably
(doubtlessly)

killing you





slowly.

and i look where i don't want to look and i think what i don't want to think and i dream and i dream and let's not even get into it like a slap like an involuntary twitch like a matter that could be cancer like another matter that could be cancer at the end of the day we're just out there somewhere down below outside and over

just over
just a little bit further
just a little bit longer
hang on just hang on
i'm coming for you
i am
i will
just 153 more days

i am tired of secret enemies
the beautiful and inaccessible
i am tired of never getting anything done

i am tired of hair falling out
my endless capacity for malicious scrutiny
and the sore spot at my jaw's hinge

i am tired of not sleeping
so maybe i should sleep
but i don't know
this could be considered getting something done

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anonymousblack: (Default)
selva oscura

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