butterflies in my tummy, i’d like it if you could love me.
haha my hand is like a cross between elastigirl’s and dash. #partytime
you’re like desert, an indulgence. i want you, but i don’t need you, and i guess that’s good because i can’t have you. but i can have your time, hours cross-legged on wooden slatted floors pretending to be Russian histologists, and seconds stolen from your eyes through the glass windows of the swinging doors.
i dress up like a child’s fantasy and follow the blackened path through the orchard. rotting apples roll beneath my feet, and, as i run, clouds of my breath drift like ribbons towards the sky. the sound of bark scratchings might make me tremble, but my laughter is too loud and i have no time for fear when i am with you
tonight i want to kill myself but only for a little while. long enough that i might be the air for the breathing, instead of breathing myself, so i can see the words that you’re holding back. maybe then, when i too am breathing once again, i’ll finally be able to spit my own out from the back of my throat and only then will i be able to breathe easy again.
Don’t tell me
that I’m a semicolon
or a comma
I am not incomplete
and I do not need you
to finish my sentences