drinking scotch and 4 in the afternoon trying to savour the taste of you

sucking on my tongue the whole drive home trying to get that feeling back

-

fingers

questions

(is it better here...

or here?)

-

ohhh shit

right there.

-

white underwear

(blood can be pretty)

black t shirt

(i really like that, you're really turning me on)

delicate man

-

rain

big fat rain droplets on my skin

i so badly wanted to excuse myself and take off all my clothes and just

roll around on the grass in your backyard

-

sitting there, flicking and twirling my bracelet while you sang jeff buckley really badly

(just that one song darling, and only because you were having to be a jukebox)

thinking about how i must have become invisible over the last half hour

my own fault

i wanted to just fade into the background and so i did

thought about how i could probably and slice my wrists open and not cause much of a fuss

i wouldn't make any noise, wouldn't really be interrupting anything

just, you know....doing whatever

(what are you thinking?)

definately better just left as thoughts rather than words

-

so apologetic sometimes

so fucking beautiful

(i hate that i disappoint you)

but you so don't

baby

-

there's a documentary called 'infamous murders' that starts in 1 minute

i'm going to go watch it and drink more scotch

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