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mmm.
you're never going to call me again. you don't get me. i don't get you. nothing is happening. my brain is a circle of thoughts that barely change and are never gotten. i'm sorry i dragged my dirty white bitches over to your house. i'm not sorry that i don't remember how i even brought it up, or what could have possibly compelled me.. because.. i'd probably just end it all right now. my brain is saving my life by misplacing the details in favour of key facts.
fact: i was a shitty person all day. i revealed my shittery. i wept in your lap and told you all of my secrets. i made you hate me. i ran away. i came back. i tricked you into sleeping with me again. i gave you all the spoons when you demanded. i ran away. i ran away. and i kept on running.
but now i am home in bed. and all i really want to be is home in bed. but this is not my home. and i suppose it is debatable whether this is or is not my bed.
i understand you have no cares for me, but i have a few cares for you. and those cares make me willing to give you up forever if you want it. we can be friends. we can be heroes. we can be strangers.
my heart is headed in a hopeful direction. my lips are crumbled. i'll miss you.
5:02 am - December 18, 2010
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