titles

that moment when you come home drunk with your heart in your throat, baby i love you, baby i need you. that moment when everything is chock full of novelty and you can't help but think what a strange, strange world we live in. that moment when your eyes well with tears because you've spent no more and no less than twenty-five years denying who you really are and it feels so good, so fucking good to be the person you always knew you had a chance to be, if all these misinformed misanthropes could have mustered up some courage in your youth so that you could be the person you finally grew into. i'm not sorry for all the lies i told myself because i was very particular about trying to survive. and one more night as a manic pixie dream girl never hurt anyone, but my fingers on my keyboard are the last thread connecting me to this world. i'm not sorry, but i miss you. i'm not sorry, but i certainly do wish you well.

i'm such a good writer when i get out of my own way. i'm such a good artist with my foot in my mouth. i'm an excellent lover when i channel this bliss, there are curves in my eyes and that taste in my mouth i know so well.

breathe deep when the rush leaves you on the heels of people who you thought were just memories until there came a time when they were knocking on your door. i have too much energy to give up just now, i have too much vitrol to give up the ghost, i have too many memories to call it even, won't you please stay with me until i finish this story, i think it's gonna be a long night. i'm sure it's gonna be a long night.