DRUNK. Early, lame, angsty drunk.
Blurred neon lights
drunk couples kissing on streets
mild February evenings
navigating fluorescent parking garages
laughing with 30-something couples
feeling completely at ease
standing on street corners with my eyes closed, looking upwards
my feet are torn up by red shoes
I barely acknowledge the homeless man on the corner
this city is so hostile and beautiful
the moon is swimming in my head
I am so angry at you.
You think I am too heavy. You and I are too heavy.
Sometimes we have to make sacrifices for the people we love.
This hurts like the silence of empty elevator music.
I know you are somewhere in this city being touched by other people.
All I want is your hair spread on my fucking pillow.
I can't listen to Animal Collective anymore!
You are light and easy, cultivating your angst and identity across city blocks.
I want to call you, but you don't give a fucking shit.
"When somebody leaves you, that's it, it's done, you can't call them."
Everyone seems to romanticize this.
"oh what a noble way for him to leave you"
"he's a good man"
"this is the best scenario"
What the fuck?! you're the only person who is willing to admit
"I'm sorry, I'm an asshole."
And that's all you have to say.
That's not good enough.
I want everyone else to give me reasons to hate your fucking guts.
I want to hear you say:
I'm worth it
You want me
I'm good enough
Even though I know I'm not worth shit. I am mediocre like the rest of them. You never knew how to say anything.
Your lame excuses, those empty cliches, mean nothing to me.
I hope you know that.
I just want you back in my bed.
"You always seemed to lose the spark when I was only half undressed"
I already feel that you are unfamiliar. when the fuck did you separate yourself from me?
You can replace me with any other mediocre bitch you want. You have charisma that works.
I hope you know that you're the first person I desire not because I feel the need to be with someone, anyone, arbitrarily, but because I want you for who you are.
That is irrelevant. You don't give a shit about that.
I want to lick tears off your face.
I want to be fucked so hard that I don't feel anything
except the ache of my empty body
Everything is a fucking joke for you.
I am too heavy.
(I promise I won't delete this post, but you probably won't read it. And if you do, you'll just laugh at me. I can sulk if I want, bitches. Fuuuuuuuck.)