Today's The Day The Drafts Reappear (Or I'm too busy and lazy to write something new)
Tell me that we’re okay. Even if we’re not. Maybe we can pretend it away, wake up and smile until our faces hurt and teeth become sticky with the dryness of the air. I want to close my eyes and pretend you’re not here, but still be able to touch you. Does that make sense? I want to be mad but I don’t want to fuck this up. I don’t know how to say I’m sorry without taking it back. “I’m sorry… sorry you’re such an asshole.” Yeah. Okay. That was me. And that was you. Fuck. I want to say fuck and still be a woman you’ll take home to mom. I want to kick walls as long as we’re on the same page of knowing that I would never kick you. I want to scream and I want for that to be okay. For once. Just for once. I want to look at you and not see the pulsing arteries underneath your skin. I am so tired of protecting you from me while masquerading as the good person I’m not.
