my letter to you, even though you know. it is a searing, soothing thought to have you melting on my brain as often as you do.
in the morning, i pull up and i see you in your pajamas, running around like a chicken without a head.
some days you come pull up and i look in the window, youre singing or doing something frantic.
how that makes me feel, i cannot really say. it just boils on my mind and drips down my body until i am covered in the thick, slow spread of everything i love.
when we sleep in your bed at one in the afternoon, you throw your face into the pillow and look like you have passed out really hard.
some people say that we are girlfriends without the sex. i say, we are what i have always dreamed of. what many other people have probably had, but i have never known.
i feel like everyday i am chasing a dream that is already there. it is what i want and i feel like every time we just do what we do, we fill the gaps in our days that make them unbearable.
we go crazy together by never going crazy alone. and then we sit and smoke cigarettes until we are hungry. and we call each other just to scream at the traffic on the road.
i love this. i love you. this is my letter to you, undone and hardly even begun.
it will never be finished with a swan song. it will be a bang and then we will forget just how nice it was, singing along with the radio and getting our kicks out of each other.
for you, the world.