"and i was just like, shit"There is a saint in silver who sleeps on your clavicle, who"and i was just like, shit"
screams into my mouth that you are an angel and I am ripping off your wings
feather by feather, who
screams into my mouth that I don't fit underneath
your skin, that your veins are
too close together, that there are planets on the other side of your
skin cells, that there is no vacancy between your
lungs or behind your heart or amidst your muscles
for me and my mascara and my knuckles
and my doubt, who screams that I am a
pile of bones and disgrace and distance and wishful
thinking
I have had ni
concerning a refusal to danceI once pointed my toes and imagined them so far rooted under the ground that they brokeconcerning a refusal to dance
into pieces too small to dance upon
I once reached so far into my pockets that I found some sad nickels that had hidden, embarrassed from the time you said "no" when I asked
if you to pick a song so we could dance
I once painted the steps on
the floor because I thought
you'd want to teach me but they've been peeling and lonely for years
I once spun around so slowly that you had
already found someone
who could learn the danc
| i'm the fuckin prom queen |
i'm welcoming myself back
Lazy
xo!
--
an antique arms and armor expert
Besides that, I look forward to reading some more of your writings! (and hopefully metting you in person at GSA!)
-tyler kline (i found your link in the group!)
--
--HollywooD!
--
I'M SO JEALOUS...
--
--
...
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