eighty-four

I’ll see your douchebagery, and raise you one heartbreak.

eighty-three

Let’s walk on the edge of danger. Let’s flirt with the idea of destruction. Let’s play in the ring of bad ideas. We’ll never be safe; but honey, we’ll be bored. 

eighty-two

Take me there, I beg you. I’ll deal with the bruises later. Guide me to the very brink we both wanna see me jump from. I’ll be too infatuated to blame you when I’m falling. 

eighty-one

The labored breaths between us were enough to make my questions, your promises.

eighty

My heart’s relentless though. It refuses to be caged. That kind of strength is really just weakness. 

seventy-nine

You’re a book I annotated too carefully. I highlighted the adventures and sweet words, and wrote notes in the margins of what I thought it could all mean. I was diligent, in search of grand meaning or profound conclusion. But page after page, the novel of you turned to nothing more than shallow fiction. When I reached the back cover I found quotes from girls past, ones I couldn’t imagine existed, and before I knew it the story had ended and it was my turn to evaluate. 

seventy-eight

We all just want plans to cancel, people to ignore, and messages to delete. The human condition is a strange thing: wanting what we can’t have, only to reject it if it comes our way.