i must have prayed for this

i can't even recognise sagitarrius in the sky. i keep asking people about favourite constellations, the best noisy lights, anything pinpricky. fuck, fuck fuuuck. nowadays i'm remarkably gentle with insects and spiders except when they're fucking, because i'm sick of splitting up the dogs, a fuzzy cloud bow-legged from his relentlessness. harpies and catholicking.

selfishness and detachment to be expected..

just let me be of service in some way. i'm too much of a mess for most respectable things these days, and when i can stop making 'nowadays' comments in wasted refrain i'll be...someone else, less tired than a media collective.

my lungs, will not push for ways to say

you gave me too much, and i will always love you for it.

i cannabalise entries like these..so, one rainy day, if you read this, call me - we can waltz, and pretend it's your birthday.

and you don't need to worry about me, i've been too much of an idealist to be any good at suicide. i'll work with simple fun and being adaptable, i promise. i deserve to see you in another's arms, because i haven't stopped running away.