um

One of those terrible melancholy boys again.
he is probally from sweden. he is, oh.

i don't know what i'm doing here,
neither.
he said he would take me to a tropical paradise.
now i'm not so sure.
i work in a diner, the worst kind, you know.

she is so godammn cute,
like a creampuff, which i dislike
i cannot escape these sweet songs
all the sad boys have love to burn.
i see a place that looks like holidays

now i remember
your face shutting
we rest on a futuristic plane
hear a moth hitting the wall
that is inside the planetarium
the only place i can hide
james dean doesn't move his mouth

i liked the coat you wore the day before yesterday

It is strange how we exist in these parallel ways.
Plastic bags rolling like spit roasts in the wind.
An American Beauty moment on the way home.
Away from you for centuries i close my eyes and see a pack of wolves,
a J.H Lynch of you and me,
lanterns light your face
equations revolve around our heads
trying to
there is no small town where everyone knows us.
don't want to be known,
by anyone

you play a song and i stay silent,
more silence, more silence
that band ,
that band,
don't like them no more,
they cut their hair too short.

everything i owned forever

"You're an unforgettable retard." she muttered under her breath. Every morning the boy strolled in, banged his fist on the counter and demanded some goddamn pancakes. "I'm just going to cut up your newspaper. Don't cry sweetheart." He declared. She just blinked and filled his cup.

"C'mere," he raised his slow bony finger to beckon her. "I wanna tell you a secret." Feet dragging she forced herself over to the old man. "I only dream in black and white. Always have, always will." As he spat on th ground she didn't even flinch.