blueforest/blackmoon

•i’m sorry about the blood in your mouth. i wish it was mine.

•tell me we’re dead and i’ll love you even more.

•every morning the same big and little words all spelling out desire, all spelling out you will be alone always and then you will die.

•i talk to you as if you’re really there. are you there, sweetheart? do you know me? is this microphone live?

•sorry about the bony elbows, sorry we lived here, sorry about the scene at the bottom of the stairwell and how i ruined everything by saying it out loud.

•here is the part where everyone was happy all the time and we were all forgiven, even though we didn’t deserve it.

•you said love, for you, is larger than the usual romantic love. it’s like a religion. it’s terrifying. no one will ever want to sleep with you.

•the entire history of human desire takes about seventy minutes to tell. unfortunately, we don’t have that kind of time.

•we clutch our bellies and roll on the floor… when i say this, it should mean laughter, not poison.

•the dawn was breaking the bones of your heart like twigs.

•a man takes his sadness and throws it away but then he’s still left with his hands.

•you thought if you handed over your body he’d do something interesting.

•you take the things you love and tear them apart or you pin them down with your body and pretend they’re yours.

•oh, the things we invent when we are scared and want to be rescued.

•i went to the riverbed for you to show up. you didn’t show up. i kept waiting.

•i wanted to fall down right there but i knew you wouldn’t catch me because you’re dead. i swallowed crushed ice pretending it was glass and you’re dead.

•yes, i do believe his mouth is heaven, his kisses falling over me like stars.

•there’s smashed glass glittering everywhere like stars.

•i have to search my body for the scars, thinking did he find that one last tender place to sink his teeth in?

•i will turn myself into a gun, because i’m hungry and hollow and just want something to call my own.

•a dead man at our feet staring up at us like we’re something interesting.

•desire, like a monster, crawls up out of the lake.

•we are not dirty, he keeps saying. we are not dirty…

•he’s trying to drive you into the ground, to see if anything walks away.

•there’s a niche in his chest where a heart would fit perfectly.

•we have not been given all the words necessary. we have not been given anything at all.

•do we mean something when we talk? is it enough that we are shuddering from the sound?

•i will come back from the dead for you.

•i sleep. i dream. i make up things that i would never say. i say them very quietly.

•we have not touched the stars, nor are we forgiven.

•i would like to meet you all in Heaven. but there’s a litany of dreams that happens somewhere in the middle.

•we have been very brave, we have wanted to know the worst, wanted the curtain to be lifted from our eyes.