I wonder if you know yet that you’ll leave me. That youClementine von Radics (via volatilebodies)
are a child playing with matches and I have a paper body.
You will meet a girl with a softer voice and stronger arms and she
will not have violent secrets or an affection for red wine or eyes
that never stay dry. You will fall into her bed and I’ll go back
to spending Friday nights with boys who never learn my last name.
I have chased off every fool who has tried to sleep beside me
You think it’s romantic to fuck the girl who writes poems about you.
You think I’ll understand your sadness because I live inside my own.
But I will show up at your door at 2 am, wild-eyed and sleepless.
and try and find some semblance of peace in your breastbone
and you will not let me in. You will tell me to go home.
My favorite for two reasons:
- Keeps me in check. The world is not obligated to care, you can’t always expect that people will, especially when they have their own things and problems and hurt that you are not obligated to care about either. Don’t expect too much from anyone.
- The world is not obligated to care, yet sometimes, it still does. And that’s beautiful to me.