v u l v a l i c i o u s
In the wide wide open, wide wide open...and she said "She never misses a note"
What do I think when she tells me things between them are over? Little, really, when I always thought of myself as the type to care. I wanted to make a joke, to ask her if they had broken up over me. I refrained, spending my email talking about the most inane things I could think of.
I read too much, I think too much, I can't wait to see you at Christmas.
There is new music in my head that won't leave, and I need to find it somewhere so that it can live in my mind forever. Music is dangerous and beautiful, dark and mysterious and able to light up a room all at once.
Sometimes, I think I am music.
I am bleeding again, but don't feel as grounded. Everything is tinted, faded, half-life, half-light. The color of my room when light comes in through my cheaply made window shades, a pale blue that exists and doesn't all at once.
Sometimes, I think I'm that blue.
Grounding. Holding. Cunt.