You respond with all the cliché shock of a high school teacher letting the word “cunt” slip during class when I tell you I’m in love with you.
All the cocaine mirrors in the NE US couldn’t keep up the pace of the heart stubborn enough to keep me alive (“alive” by the definition of Drs.).
Your eyes widen, but I’m almost certain it’s because they’re drowning in your head, not the liquid beads produced from overwhelming emotion.
Warm distance sprouts. Its intention is to be a picked at scab widening a hole that will eventually stop bleeding.
Postures change: Mine – folds. Yours – winces.
I did it. I gave you permission to hurt me, and you don’t mean to, or you will, and I’ll have to deal hands I know are crooked, but what other cards do you see lying around?…If we want to continue playing anyway.
This was not ambition. This was tenacity. This becomes #noregrets after I’ve confessed to drinking a 24 oz Cotton Candy slushy in under twenty minutes that three strangers liked and one will share
…I did #regret that slushy, but man was it sweet going down. Yes. I lied to 296 followers.