i see myself as beer kisses. my hands smell like strawberry, my chest smells like light blue cedar. my lips always taste like smoke and my tongue feels like vanilla and chocolate and cherries. once i told her i had a bell tied into my hair, and she said "that's beautiful." and i have this saviour syndrome.
how can i be stagnant? how can i be still to you? i feel like i'm always moving or changing or something. floating around. but i never really know. the times i try to define myself i grasp so tightly to an idea that it simply turns to steam and floats up through the cracks between my fingers. but i know that you can't see me either. we lost our feeling of friendship with lego blocks and barbie dolls.
that bell in my hair...
they cut it out of me.
you drift away like peppered smoke.
but i guess that's okay, now.
