kore

i sit in an old stable savouring the smell of wet rotting wood. ive got the boy i love beside me and my shoes are soaked from walking through wet fields. im in love and extremely hung over. im sitting on some hunk of wood and so is he. and the birds keep flying in and out of the place, protective of a nest. i take a shot of vodka and immediately puke it up. thats ok. hell share his fireball with me cuz hes a sweetheart.

the whole world feels so big and its vastness grows only vaster when you think of how small things really get. the world of atoms. the world of cells. the world of pixies. and i could be a moore child, a changeling left by some crafty little fairy. these fields are full of unexplainable things and i accept that. and my baby, hes the kinda guy who believes me. he doesnt demand proof because he gets it. yes, mice could very well be fairies in disguise. and magic happens all the time.