She said I think too much
So I googledĀ āracing thoughtsāĀ
((Iāve never so adored you//Iām twisting allegories now)) and what if my visual aesthetic is delicately adorned pink lace with twinkling lights over nooks for reading books where men get their throats slashed open by mythological monsters ((Iām chasing roller coasters//Iāve got to have you closer now)) and is that too gendered of thinking in my head? When is forgiveness the better route over education because of context and the fact that heās my dad and I donāt want to lose my family? ((endless romantic stories//you never could control me)) but Iām going to pace around a strange personās house and not know what to do with myself, I canāt prepare for what I want and whatās the best way to be productive in the way I want, God I just want to sleep ((fixation or psychosis//devoted to neurosis now)) and the phoneās going to ring at any minute and set me off to racing around my apartment to disrupt both me and her and I still donāt know what I want to eat this week, my head hurts behind my left eye which I think holds the creative side of my brain ((well I never really thought that youād come tonight//while the crowd hangs heavy on either side//give me one last kiss while weāre far too young to die)) and I canāt write and I canāt speak itās like my head is blocked up while my heartās locked up by a fantasy somewhere between highways and oceans that I canāt leave town to chase after and I just want to figure it out because I just want to be happy and I just want to feel the way I imagine I felt standing on top of that trail overlooking the city but that wasnāt real either ((weāre far too young to die)).Ā

















