Some days I wake up hating myself and I don’t know how to stop.
Never let your girl stand out in a thunderstorm too long, it will become her resurrection. The wind and bassdrum of water is the same thing as CPR, 32 beats before she leans her head back and laughs in a way that sounds like she’s finally alive. The lightning will be a defibrillator right across her brainstem and her eyes will become full of an unbearable brightness, too powerful to stare into and too beautiful to turn away from. She has become witch in that instant as if her whole body is trembling with a magic so potent it could atomize her, as if the only thing tying her to her personhood is just her skin. All else has become a tempest.
Please. Don’t you know that lightning burns five times hotter than the sun? You will see her like that with her wild nature exploding from her cautious one - you will see her like that, that perfect moment of being recklessly undone - and she will burn herself into you for an eternity. You cannot stare into the heart of that and not just fall in love.
All I ever seem to be is a little too late.
ALL I WANT IS TO BE HAPPY
I’ve skipped work two days in a row now and fuck fuck fuck I can’t do this I feel like I did when I started skipping classes this past spring. SHIT.
Why the fuck do I do this to myself?