quasi_sean

Maybe she would be there. Be there to hug me, stroke my hair, and whisper that everything would eventually be okay.
There are voices that predict these tragedies, but so vague. I see maelstromssky bound the clouded shy, sky-pregnant with tears.
my friend. ohher.
She has about her a wisdom that is both chaotic and simple & she loves the butterfly trees that she sits and reads beneath. Music. It speaks to her & she patiently accepts my frowns and truhtruhtroubles.

Her eyes dance with the spirits that I claw and scream my way thru the caves to find. I could drownchocolate drenched in those eyes. I could compose symphonies dedicated to her brilliance and the magical power she holds over me like a nude and intoxicating angel. I could spend forever holding her next to me and watching the way her eyelashes flutter when shes asleep and dreaming.
I could fill notebooks full of clichs.
I could sound retarded and bubbly.
I could hear her breath one more time before the coffin closes and Im quiet

please find me somewhere other than every place you've already looked and I am there waiting, my heart open and full of tears and just hold me.