And when he calls me bby
The neighbors are walking around.
It sounds like they are walking on the wall, but of course they are not. That would be so fucking amazing.
I’m ignoring phone calls, because I too am walking on the walls. I’m carving my name in the ceiling and right below an epitaph:
her escape route
Both times we failed.
First earlier, I could tell that he wanted to try even though I was crying. He just wanted to hold me and I could tell he was hard, but I simply could not bring myself to it. No no no he said and tried to kiss me on the mouth, it felt like he pitied me. There’s nothing alluring in pity.
When he came over later. It was reversed. I lamely pulled at his clothing while he checked his phone. We’re trying he said. I am throwing myself in the hole I said in my mind. Rejected on both levels. I lost my socks and he left.
In the between time I cried a lot. Outside the sun shone and I walked and blubbered, fucking fool. Then retreated. Alone in a stranger’s home.
I can’t eat I said to the dogs and they just listened.
It’s mother’s day. She’s just been texting me all day telling me not to come home.
I don’t want to hurt you he said, and therefore I am not.
They both do it to keep me on my toes.
One day you’ll wake up
and realize that it’s not them
I love you
Is just that thing you say when there’s really nothing else you wanna say. It’s an escape route, it’s the enemy -
It’s not asking why it’s not enough. Or when
is the last time you needed to touch those fingertips. is the last time you were hungry for that voice, that familiar feeling. Or proclaim secretly to yourself
this love shit is delicate
Instead of saying it, you should hold it and make sure that it’s still there.
"Remember when this was our song?
Remember when I was still allowed to post on your facebook?”
Can I escape from my house to yours?