Grumpy Old Guy.

brain: do you have your wallet?

brain: do you have your wallet and your phone and your keys and your pocket knife and y-

Ancient Egyptians had fifty words for sand & the Eskimos had a hundred words for snow. I wish I had a thousand words for love, but all that comes to mind is the way you move against me while you sleep & there are no words for that.

I don’t think people love me. They love versions of me I have spun for them, versions of me they have construed in their minds. The easy versions of me, the easy parts of me to love.

Everyone’s fucked up. You’ve just gotta decide what kinda fucked up you’re into.

I want to talk about what happened without mentioning how much it hurt. There has to be a way. To care for the wounds without reopening them. To name the pain without inviting it back into me.

You wanna dance with the devil, you gotta live with it when he sets you on fire.