9 april

rolled around on kitchen floors;
tied my tongue in pretty bows with yours.
and now we pass: and just like glass
i see through you; you see through me
like i'm not there.

...and i am blind; i cannot find the heart
i gave to you.
-Glass, Ingrid Michaelson.

(was i so dull when you kissed me for twenty minutes in a parking garage? but that was not me; i was a piece of skin, a pretty empty shell. and we acquiesed. so i was only untouched skin?)


i want to crawl back into my bed of sin.
i want to burn the sheets that smell of your skin...
still want to hold you and kiss behind your ears,
but i recount the countless tears that i lost for you.

i promise: starting now i'll never know your name.
starting now i'll never feel the same.
starting now i wish you never came into my world.
-Starting Now, Ingrid Michaelson.

There are so many people in the world. there are so many wicked wonderful dangerous beautiful apathetic fragile emphatic bean-brained people.

i love them. i love humans.

i love warm touching human ripening humans.