#kenziechat

Grass is sticking static to my back. you brush it off, and we laugh at the couple who are in love under the tree. I know they don't love though. They play out a façade of burnt necks and burning flesh to say "I am capable of love" not "I am in love" and I reflect this upon myself. I play the part, I scorn the dress. Mindlessly I wander around the landscape holding a hand that is not my own. Have I ever loved? In these 18 years of mine, have I become so small that I have given dead hearts to those beating? No. There was one. his arms, covered with earth drew me in. He was deeper than darkness, wild dreams my number seven.

"Freaking out" He says, his hands on my Shoulders. Shaking my everlasting Internal investigation Of what I thought I wasn't afraid of. I am cold and tired of Tubes and needles, But you gave me The Terra cotta Bowl And I Have become The hellish floor.

Everything is wrong. The bed won't fit, And my eyes Can't filter Out what's Wrong With me. I'm living to give others a grin, and I feel wrinkles spread across my Whole grain bread. Like the butter, Am spread Thin.

Do you remember when the walls fell? Do you keep the letters? Do you know the sound of slamming doors? Do you think that stars actually aligned for us to meet? I do.

-me when talking to me about another super cool human

Whenever I practice conducting, I always bring up a picture of Dean Patterson's lovely booty and try and channel my inner musician.