red sparkle

Title: vanilla heart show

every dream that you’ve ever had of me undressing you is a manual on how to come out of this alive.
Tell me how we’ll make it, and how we will keep on running until our feet only know the wet earth that is conjured up by spring and honey bees.
Tell me about the raw complexion of your taste buds when they lick firewood from the flaming stone of my belly.
Our limbs are kissed by lambs.
Our laughs are birds thrown into the sky from the nests of our throats like twittering thunder.
And our hearts are swollen with the fresh sweet whiff of vanilla that radiates off the bodies by the long awaiting dock, stretching towards wine red sunsets and a sparkling cider moon.
So Tell me how God will weep for all he did not do for us,
And I will show you another sunlit evening that promises a safe tomorrow.
Now tell me how every dream of us together is a manual for green lawn care and happiness.
Tell me we will have it soon enough.

Monday 8:27am
I woke up with you on my mind.
You called me babe last night —
my heart is still pounding.

Tuesday 10:53pm
Today I realized we won’t work.
What we are is hurting her.
And I think she matters more to me than you do.

Wednesday 11:52pm
I broke things off with you today.
She barely said a word.
I’ve never regretted anything more than this.

Thursday 4:03pm
I shouldn’t have sent that message.
You shouldn’t have been so okay with receiving it.

Friday 9:57pm
I almost messaged you today.
I didn’t.

Saturday 8:49pm
I’m walking around town in search of alcohol.
They say that liquor numbs the pain of having a broken heart.
I want to put that to the test.

Sunday 2:32am
I heard you texted a girl you’ve never spoken to before.
I wonder if it’s because you’re trying to replace me.
I can’t help but wish you weren’t.
I thought I was irreplaceable.

—  a week with you on my mind, c.j.n.
Move on, leave, run away, escape this place… but don’t forget about me, about us, about this town. Always remember where you come from so you can appreciate how far you’ve come.
—  c.j.n.
You claim to love her, inside and out, but the only time you call her beautiful is when it’s 3 in the morning and I’ve already turned you down.
—  girls tell each other everything, c.j.n.
We throw around the word never likes its nothing but a small rose petal. The word never is a doubled edged sword. On one side it says ‘I will never leave you’ and on the other it says ‘I will never love you.’
—  The Word Never