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grumpy IDby ~tragicsleep
louderi used to think that i was passionate, that i had as much ire as any romanticbook heroine, as much fire as any mythological, scorned deity. instead i live an ordinary life, in an ordinary town, with an ordinary cat and ordinary fears. i dream, as ordinarily as most people do, of fantastical adventures, all-consuming love stories, sultan-worthy riches. i dream of countries i haven’t heard of, and of people i will never meet. i dream a hundred different lives for myself in the timespace between lunch and tea. i fantasize, and wish, and daydream, and wonder. i reject reality for my own inventions. how long can i live like this?louder
by ~tragicsleep
every dayyou’ve left my hope writhing on the floor with a few simple words, this isn’t going to work. what is meant to work? and who decides what is right and wrong in the workings of our emotions? the mechanics of us seem fine enough to me, all these nights exercising our bodies in bed, on the carpet, against the door, on the kitchen table. it is excellent organization, positioning and examination. thorough and meticulous. nothing left to hazard and everything left to hunger. don’t get me wrong – i’m not saying this is a meant to be scenario. i don’t want to bear your children. i don’t want your rievery day
by ~tragicsleep
informationyou can’t see what your love is doing to me, and i’d like to think that it’s for the best. who knows what cruel jokes and hopes you’ll pull if you ever knew. who knows what you would say, to my face and to my back, if you knew the tears i have cried, the skin i have torn and the bones i have broken. they remain a bitter taste in the back of my throat, consumed long ago but unwilling to dissipate. i should have known that such strong spices would only harm my sensitive anatomy, leave my lips swollen and irritable. i sucked on ice, smoked heavy cigarettes to think of other sensations. but you’ve stained me, more deep-seinformation
by ~tragicsleep
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