I have five film reviews to finish and my brain decided it wants to write something else. Normally these kinds of thoughts have to stay within the confines of my journals, but it's late and I'm feeling a little brave right now in the dark.
12:27 a.m.
What is it like to call
somebody else's arms "home",
and not your own
skin and bones?
1:02 a.m.
I want to find a tattoo he doesn’t tell anybody about:
on his back or his torso,
or somewhere along his spine
and I would kiss it every night
and try to see what it feels like
to be forever etched onto his skin
1:45 a.m.
and I wonder if anyone could break my heart
as beautifully as you did
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