I want my head in between god's knees, my nose towards the floor.

I want to sleep slowly through the entire night and to stretch my neck backwards without breaking it for another. I want to eat more so my skin glows and I want to sip my lost purity back inside. I want to rest my head on someone's adoring knee so I wont think about god or how nice Charles Starkweather looked with Caril. I want to see more dirt on my hands and less of spoiled ice cream, grease, and roller skate bruises.

I want this because nothing else seems enough, and I want this because it's all that's worth holding.

ceratopogonidae bites.

It sounds a little silly, but this showed me where I needed to go.

Without mental mutilation, our world will always be distraught and vulnerable to those who choose stones over pebbles, and the sea's moss over evergreen courses.
I said good-bye to the sea tonight while crying with the comfort of another whom I was comforting.

Hopper is still

Us as of late

Lately I've been drying Florida like its been drying me.

And pasta Sundays.

Not Here. But Here.