Friday, November 13, 2009

the notes are old, they bend, they fold, and so do I to a new love

I want him to melt into me, like butter on toast. I want to absorb him and walk around for the rest of my days with him encased in my skin. And as the days pass, I grow more and more anxious. Each time I approach that room I hope that I'll find him there. And each time I don't, my heart sinks.

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