I'm so lonely I've given up missing the people who can come to me.
My claws reach for motorcycles, in desperate need of feminism.
The more I check my phone, the fewer ghosts kiss my eyelids.
I want you to kiss me.
Fire hurts, and that's why I turn my eyes to champagne when you look at them.
I'd let you bruise me.
Every motion of your fingers is enough to distract me for days.
Is it possible to be in love with your best friend and only kiss on the cheek forever?
You're going to die, and I don't want to be there when it happens.
But I can't stand not having you in my sight every second of the day.
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The first in my poetry collection of blog posts. Expect more weirdness like this.
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