It is a strange sort of pain "to die of yearning for something you'll never experience"

Friday, January 09, 2004

Making love to black wires, my feet burn.
I'm sweating.
Who's behind my window?
I'm tired
And I wanna swim in my ceiling.
"Is it just me or is it hot in here?"
Don't speak my name; it makes me feel lonely…

I wish I knew how to swim…

No comments: