| i thought my life was set.
i really thought it was.
i had something to look forward to.
i had aaron.
i figured these things would fall into place.
i thought we'd move in together
& live in boston for a while
while he became a doctor
and i became a doting mistress.
and i would cook him breakfast
& he would roll blunts on my tummy
and i would kiss his scruffy beard
and whisper in his ear.
why would anyone want to hurt me?
"why should anyone want to harm my little heart, my hands, my skin that i'm wrapt in because god wants me warm..."
the worlds got me dizzy again.
you'd think after seventeen years i'd be used to the spin. |
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| falling insatiably in two & it was rather like the end of freshman year thats how in love i was. |
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| i hadn't been intending to run away, but thats what the police call it. thats what the whole town says when they were woken up, "where's leah?" i was happy for a little bit i think i was i cant really remember what that feels like i wasnt running away from anything , rather to something. & i found him. & nothing else matters. god. i'm selfish. i am a selfish bitch. |
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| you know how sometimes you can see to the bottom of the ocean? well right now i can see to the top of the universe. |
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| I want to feel the chill of a transit terminal at 6 AM, strung out on speed & starvation, and huddling closer to warm my bruised skin I'd realize I've been here before, and some stranger would offer me his coat and I'd sink into restless sleep. I want to live inside myself. i want to breath in the sea-slung San Fransisco air alone, paper cup of coffee clasped in pale white hands. I want infinite moments with people I don't dare get close to, just those times where or eyes find each other and for a second we feel alright. I want to feel my skin open up, cracked from the sun , and soak in the familiarity of this strange place. I want to feel the burn of whiskey at my raw throat, solemn nights where numb fingers fail to turn the pages, they're too heavy. I want to rise, weightless, in a shroud of dissapearance over a world that never wanted me. I want to keep myself hidden, behind books and wrapped in fitful bags of clothes. I want to lust after something inanimate, something that cannot possibly hurt me, something soft and still like a weathered face in a photograph. I want to dance beneath the vast canopy of the sky, sighing as all sorts of empty truths find their way to my wasted mind. I want resolution, like the tide, to stay volatile in a world that seems to remain unchanged. I want desolation -- I want to view the world from the top of a mountain, and feel the ground beneath my feet before desending once more...
Leah Grace Callahan |
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