I feel like sometimes if I could just touch you I could make you stay as if my heart is gonna come pouring out of my fingers a giant bloody mess of tendons and exposed muscle beating and oozing throbbing violently as if the sight of such a display of my affection for you could shock you into aggressively throwing your arms around me and vowing never to leave but that’s not how things happen is it?
I’ll forever be a ghost wandering your hallways wailing to the night about unrequited love, I will always be a dog on the side of your table patiently waiting as you sparingly pull off pieces of bread and toss them to me, scraps that I take quickly & eagerly because I’d give anything just to eat from your hand fuck you I’m so tired of being alone
you have no proof that i am not at least one of the members of daft punk
I am alive. I am here. I am trying. That is enough.