her possible mouth (suchcartography) wrote,
her possible mouth

  • Mood:
I'm contemplating bullshit. Bullshit not for you, or by you, or because of you, but bullshit all the same. I wonder sometimes, vainly, what you would do if something happened to me tomorrow. Or the day after. I wonder where you'd be then. I wonder what this towering wall would look like shoved inside of cramped quarters.

I wonder if I've broken your heart at all. I wonder if you cry for me. I suspect you wouldn't. Or perhaps you would, in the dead of night (little blackbird...).

Is it raining with you? So baby, talk to me like lovers do.

It feels sometimes like I will be alone forever. That there was a chance at greatness I singlehandedly let slip through my fingertips. I feel bitter, and angry, and hurt, and lonely and alone.
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