I have so many unrealistic expectations for the people I care about romantically. Either I lower them, stop blaming, wait or all of the above.

i’m sane i’m sane i’m sane i’m sane i’m sane i’m sane i’m sane i’m sane i’m sane i’m sane i’m sane i’m sane i’m sane i’m sane i’m sane i’m sane i’m sane i’m sane i’m sane i’m sane i’m sane i’m sane i’m sane i’m sane i’m sane i’m sane i’m sane i’m sane i love you i’m sane i’m sane i’m sane i’m sane i’m sane i’m sane i’m sane i’m sane i’m sane i’m sane i’m sane i’m sane i’m sane i’m sane i’m sane i’m sane i’m sane i’m sane i’m sane i’m sane i’m sane i’m sane i’m sane i’m sane i’m sane i’m sane i’m sane i’m sane i’m sane i’m sane i’m sane i’m sane i’m sane i’m sane i’m sane i’m sane 

Sext: The subway shoots like a load through the earth, full of tiny, terrible personalities all trying to be born

Patricia Lockwood

if only i could run a 7-minute mile and see you for the shit that you are

you don’t have a particularly remarkable chin,
but i hadn’t been to the galapagos and believed
it was something we could have shared. after all,
we’ve bonded over the white, sterile rooms, the 
smell of lavender incense and a love for freeze tag. 

i would count the ceiling tiles before making my
way down to your zipper. you’d say ‘my eyes are
up here’ and i would look at your chin a seventh
time. these things never happened very often,
but when they did i thought about a jungle gym.

when i feel nervous or agitated by stimuli i look to
an earlier time, to my nautical-themed bedroom. i
consider a younger version of myself and the way i
was less likely to stay put back then. paralysis came
later, i think. there’s was never a fear of you, i lament. 

We were in stasis for 17 days and when I woke
yours was the first face that I saw.
I didn’t care that our disease
was incurable
because it was only you and I
that incubated it.

Bianca Stone, You Were Lost in the Delta Quadrant

Moment of weakness — but hey, that’s how it goes.

A Pleasure To See You

I tickled the knuckles on both of your hands
while you told me about the foreign man you
fucked the night before. ‘I don’t like him all
that much, but it’s nice to share a bed with
someone.’ You were talking close and your
breath smelled of tequila, but in a nice way.

Nights before you invited me to your studio
to watch a Blu-ray of Good Morning Vietnam.
There were other things I wanted to do—kiss
your fingertips or lick your nose—but you had
never seen the film and I didn’t want to take
that away from you. I don’t like to take things. 

Normally I curse dishonesty, but I rather you
believe I’m okay with splitting the bill, sharing
stories about feet and collar bones. My jeans
were a dark brown. It was cold on the rooftop
and I thought it might rain. I brought this up, 
my fear, but was soon distracted by a hard on.