it's tripping over broken glass.
I’m the ring your first love gave to you. I’m shiny and gold for the whole of the day, then eventually you stop treasuring it so much and the gold starts flaking off to reveal some cheap metal underneath that turns your fingers a rotten green. Because that’s what I do. I start taking things from people, demanding their time in exchange for my misery that they can’t begin to cure, and I don’t know when to stop. And no one likes that. So, it’s easier if you throw it away the minute it loses its shine.

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@музыка: suede - beautiful ones

@темы: quotes, coffee and cigarettes

Комментарии
13.11.2009 в 22:56

Dance, dance in the morning light. Open your darkened eyes. Hey, hey, it's a beautiful day. It'll be ok. It'll be ok.
Because every single person that touches my skin – out of every person – none of them have ever made me feel simultaneously fucking terrified and like the bravest person alive. Every person that even comes within close proximity of me (a two mile radius) shall now forever be compared to him and will, inevitably, come up short. And when I persuade them to take my clothes off, I’ll imagine their eyes as his, their plundering lips as his, prying hands and teasing skin. Their ecstasy thrusting inside me will be his. And then I’ll open my eyes and it won’t be him.

ранена. убита.
14.11.2009 в 22:45

it's tripping over broken glass.
маленькое чу

да, очень хорошо написано...в цель.
25.11.2009 в 20:54

большое спасибо. это все здорово бодрит.