"i tried to look cute today but i still look bad" - the tragic story of my entire existence
I’m writing my essay on cyber-bullying right now
and there was this article that said “anon hate hurts us because when we read it, we don’t hear the attacker’s voice, we hear our own”
and that’s a really good observation.
let’s spend our week nights eating cereal on the floor
when there is a perfectly fine table behind us.
we can go to the movies and sit in the back row
just to make out like kids falling in love for the first time.
we’ll paint the rooms of our house
and get more paint on us than the walls.
we can hold hands and go to parties we end up
ditching to drink wine out of the bottle in the bathtub.
and slow dance with me in our bedroom
with an unmade bed and candles on the nightstand.
let me love you forever.