The Lurid Details

his kiss was not something mutual, I found it was a gift, that I would have to pay back, in a way that made me slightly uneasy, and nauseous. 


I will never be any less impressed by the recurring realization that we fit together, both body and soul, whether we sleep facing the left, or the right.



she glances at me, allowing it to linger until noticed, and returned. my eyes meet her's, filled with a partial distaste and unfamiliar letdown. even playing it up in my mind, I was fond of the way she saw me as I always thought she ought to. beneath her in the sewers.



I thought I could heal her, possibly even cure her, if I was allowed the time. she was sick with a mistrust that I wanted so badly to rid her of, so I could access the sweetness of character that was so hidden from those who made it so.


your parents are getting divorced, in a movie-way without the magic, you could tell. behind closed doors. neither of them can tell when you're sick, due to always avoiding any face-to-face or long talks. you know how petty it sounds, it feels even pettier, but you're too young to be unable to make things about yourself. you are still sick, but the only difference now is they are not your parents.


i give you a new calendar every couple of months, i pick apart time, shred it like a piece of paper. you measure nothing, you seem impartial to sentiments of loss and closure. suggesting no interest in mensuration, you said you would use the latest for menstruation. my mind contemplates your departure, my heart oscillates your forever.


you send me a video of your mouth eating chocolate, you send me a picture of too much of your skin. you don't respond to my text messages, because all you see are words.