Where the Wild Things are.

Sloppy little witch bitch.

"You spend so much time just sitting around and thinking, that you never actually do anything." I felt the words fall from your lips and float through the air, like leaves in the autumn sky. They sank deep into my skin, through every pore and wrinkle and scar that existed only to prove our humanity. "You can be so fucking difficult." Stubborn. Thus was a time when I had no right to retaliate. We were younger then, so damn prideful. I never minded the evenings spent fighting. The drugs made us forgive, the sex made us forget. We held such a hollow love in our hands. I remember waking up one night, voices from just outside the window. The same sounds that usually held me in sleep, shot through my ears like thunder. I left you sleeping in your bed, it was, after all, your bed. It was never big enough for both of us anyways. I should have known by the sound of things, that it had grown different worlds, almost instantaneously. So imoending, the sound of sudden realization. The beginning if such a sad and sudden end. I smoked beneath the doorway light. Maybe I was wishing you would join me. I hoped the thunder might wake you too. It never did. Maybe if it had, we could have saved ourselves from that last battle, after all, I knew the storm was coming. Lightning was following our blue sky. I wonder, was there night when the sounds woke you too? Perhaps your own lungs exhaled smoke that drifted, like snow, in winter's breeze. Past that same doorway light. Did you wonder if I would come? Did you wish for me to wake? I bet I never did. And I think you felt it too, our love sinking with the sunrise But you spend so much time thinking,you would never speak up. "You can be so fucking difficult."