nothing hurt.
we must have been imaginary friends.
nothing hurt. belongs to the following groups:
All Things Poetic, Artistic, Philosophical, in-between and Young enthusiastsi fold my arms like the introvert i am.
i am sick with the words i know i could’ve said, like that i think you’re a good singer, or sometimes you colored your hair and i noticed, or that i lied about that plate, it was me that broke it.
i’ll hold my own hands, i’ll hug myself and i won’t be lonely because i don’t have to be. i’ll be happy because i haven’t found a good enough reason not to be. it could always be worse.
our faces are thinning.
i smile to myself.
fuck yes.
you haven’t ruined me. only i can do that. don’t give yourself so much credit, darling.
i unfold my arms and take a drink, nice and long and i feel it all the way down and it’s good it’s so good.
Goldenspirit
Deep me thinks.!!! :)
Rex Inkpen
’”i am sick with the words i know i could’ve said…” How definingly human AS. moments pass and never return, unable to be reclaimed. You are particularly adept at capturing mutiple significant themes in your intriguing work.
Cody Grimsrud
this is music.