I like to feel myself dying; he likes to bring me to life
a little buzz in the stillest pulse,
a distant shout in the loudest silence
this story feels about as fictional as the truth gets
his hands trace my bones and my air sticks in my lungs and I think maybe this brand of love will be the…
If you wrote a book, I would read it.
you never truly know how many hair ties and chopsticks you own until you pack up your entire life to move.