#failed!

Anon: *writes an entire dissertation about me to someone else*

Also anon: *doesn't even know my pronouns*

Now bitch... 😭

young romance // for what it’s worth 

we invent discarded gods in basements, from spare parts and leftover love and infinite speed // to make tender things from sticky tape and bits of strings and all the things that were once done to us // from the adolescent feeling of never enough // three times in quick succession, eager to drown, revelling in breathlessness // no matter the knocking, no matter the deadlines // all is life here, in flowing and soaring loops

(how could a face become not a face, but a miracle. a lullaby. a rush of adrenaline. the best reason for losing sleep // every hour spent apart is useless to us now // how love could be but private revolution, just for two)

ever spent, ever drained // cackling - at nothing - on streets that once called us names // and now the birds, once monochrome and cawing, are more colourful and exuberant // and now the sunrise, once dreary and neglectful, is something worth writing home about // and now those love songs, once tepid and mundane, are autoprophesising // and the rage and the rain and the rain seem somehow necessary; for what once defeated me has led me to you