i found the sky!  its vastness envelopes and breathes through the pores of the green world. mouth echoes and eye blinks get lost in the wind, and for the first time in awhile,  my mind is clear.

not that she didn’t before, but she loves you and my oh my it is so unfair.  she wishes for constant slumber: a state where he likes her and sometimes brings her pizza.

he makes her feel 13 or 17 and only inches tall.  he likes feeling enormous; she feeds him with tears and sorries and he keeps asking for more.  

what’s wrong with you, eric the great?  don’t you see all of the people out there killing and crying and wishing and dying for her?  you let her slip through the folds and slide into space.

[this is written about a young girl… an artist without a vision *so instead she turned to love]

don’t worry, kid.  someday there will be someone to go camping, share the covers, and stay up late singing 90s songs with you.  he’ll think you’re the prize and remember little things about you like the way you drawl out certain words or unknowingly bite your lip when you’re trying to be cute.  he’ll be glad when you’re around and miss you when you’re gone.  he’ll write you notes to remind you he’s worth it.  and if he ever stops, remember that it’ll never go back to your roots.  it’ll happen again and again and again, but that doesn’t mean you’re not beautiful and exciting.  it means that the universe didn’t stop yet.  when it does, you’ll know, kid.  you’ll know.

talking to him is like stages of a jumbled play.  we meet in the middle of deep thoughts, grow emotional, scream or cry, and ask how each other’s day went to spread the love.  he doesn’t wanna know but he’s constantly thinking.  there are subtle hints and unanswered questions, but he’s less hungry when he’s filled with these.  what is it that i can’t know or don’t seem to understand?  private life/unnecessary strife.  it’s time to go my own way on the unholy ground for lack of better places to dance.

almost every time you scold me so [you tell me the things that make you tick], i feel this great power to be something, do something, see something, feel something.  love is at the edge and being a dare davil.  i can’t even reach.  i forget what it feels like to feel it.

those eyes are soon gonna cry [shh, shh].

calivintage:

mad men season 4

my life looks more like this [with each day that fades].

i like that you are your own.  i am my own, too, actually.  if we weren’t, what makes us different from the old couple next door?  sure, we both love our herb gardens and drinking cocktails on the porch, but your smirk is different than his.  your eyes are deeper, and your heart beats for things he doesn’t even know exist.  to the blind, we’re all the same until proven otherwise.  i am not blind, but i know why you’re a breath of crisp, fresh air in the summer heat.  and that is why.

the fickle man didn’t seem to want to understand her perplexities, even though he was one of them.  she was somber and drained of her idiosyncrasies [and he was bold bold bold].