| Current mood: | Breathing |
| Current music: | Fight Club--ok, so it's a movie, but that's what i hear |
Let the Motherfucker Burn
I don't wanna die without any scars
loving the little prick, and the rush along my spine, skull, ears. Llama's breath on the back of my neck--music fingers pushing sharp-quick pain through my skin, to blossom black and for once it's a Beautiful scar. sending the pain through me in flutter-breath nerve-endings running across my skin. drawing into my skin. and his hand on my thigh on the way home--three times quick with his fingertips against my knuckles. Love you too, i squeeze back. Beloved all pale and wrapped away in black and silver, something in her shrinks up small in the kitchen. juggling sanities palm to palm....don't drop any, don't let them shatter too quick against the floor. ink and smoke and movie-lines around our heads.
'Bread sits on my bed. i love it this way--just us and the smoke in our little world where i won't let you hurt her....love her too much for that. love her skin-hair scent--inhaling aginst her back in the dark. chocolate eyes and smoking breath. and the smoke between us--taking us away to somewhere warmer and better to breathe in. somewhere his hands can't reach skin and Miles is someone gone and come back differently...so much less pain and the warmth of harsh somke against our insides.
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