Love grows in me like a tumor,

parasites bent on devouring its host.
I'm developing my sense of humor,
till I can laugh at my heart between your teeth,
till I can laugh at my face beneath your feet.

I haven't been a sucker for this in so long. I can't even remember the last time I had butterflies. I thought maybe it was something people grow out of. But damn, those bitches are going crazy in me right now. It's 4 in the morning! And I have butterflies for something I won't even get a glimpse at for at least a month! Someone please put just put me out of my misery and just tell me that it'll never happen, and I'll go on in peace. Honestly. I'll pretend it never even happened.






















Goodnight, moon.