You’ll be waiting
atop of every rooftop I climb.
atop of every rooftop I climb.
exploring the space between our fingertips.
Life’s a party he never felt cool enough to be invited to.
though I can’t promise I won’t let you down.
to then build up
she’d turn my dick into diamonds.
I think I’m me again.
We say, “Hope to see you again.”
like buses and trains because you never cared to wait.
and now I miss home
wherever that may be
(with whomever it may be with)
like penises into vaginas.
together until they cracked.
I have no one to talk to inside my head.
I told her as she nodded eagerly, “but it’ll ruin the magic.”
“No,” she replied, “then don’t.”
“…Sometimes, I’ll go somewhere with someone that I’m close with and I’ll always have this voice in the back of my head that tells me to not be boring. “Don’t bore him or her,” it’ll say, “act interesting!” And I do. I’m really good with thinking on my feet so people don’t always believe me when I admit this. But I’ve come across a select few who I can spend time with and it’s… it’s Home. I’m just quiet. My mind isn’t racing with thoughts. I’m just there. And I wish time could just freeze or all the clocks in the world would just break so neither of us would ever have to look at our watches and go, “Oh, I have to be somewhere else.”
When I’m with someone like that, my being quiet is usually such a contrast from my normal self that they usually ask me. “is something wrong?” And I want to say, “No, everything is perfect because I’m here with you.” But that’s kind of just cheesy. So I just say, “No, I’m fine.” But they don’t always believe me and I think that’s wonderful, too, They must care about me. It makes me sad to think how rare this is…”
