oh-my-god-its-me

the heavy ground takes on me begging me with each giant step to return the way i came. raindrops mock me. laughing against the cement as if happy to finally be at their resting place and thriving on my irony. a black cat crosses my path. it's line, marked by it's yellow glare ensuring that i should have been headed back to you. the wind brushes against my face, now longing to be, at peace once again, lost in the forests of your hair. i begin to hate the rain and it's cackle. i look into it's silver face and instead of my own see your eyes your lips your smile and I try to feel your touch instead of the rain's poke. so

she sits on the window sill her mind unstill she spills her ill wills and latest thrills not wanting to go from the window watching the wind blow thinking of long ago her thoughts lasting long effects long lasting she lasts longing for her mystery or her misdemeanors to mean more or go away lovely girl, watching, waiting.

and she applied her makeup and he pulled on his shirt and each of them smiled in the mirror and lied to themselves that this would be their night just like they did every other. and echoes of uncontrollable giggles and high fives pierced the cold dark air filled with the pathetic stench of teengage rebellion and suffocated insecurity and she played with her lips and her skirt played with her thighs and his smirk played with her thoughts and her silver can tipped ever so slightly supplied the golden tool that played with her golden rule she was a fool to believe that somewhere in that silver can was a silver lining