this is fiction.

i’d be lying if I said I didn’t expect anything.

how much is anything ever worth? I listen and I wait and what I really want is something that’s not completely cleee-shay. that goes beyond the surface that touches just a little below the banal.
did I/see a moment/with you/in a half-lit world?

i erase words and I create new strings of them. I smile and I look away and I never let that feeling linger. I think you know this tendency. you recognize it in yourself. and with every look and every whisper you think you know a little more. and I do too. but we’re wrong and tomorrow I’ll wake up and everything will seem just a little paler. your face will seem a little less cute, your smile a little less bright, your voice a little less familiar. i’ll know then that it’s lost, and i’ll start over. it’s beautiful like that. it makes sense.

every syllable is perfect. every gesture is forever.