Index - Profile - Archives - Notes - DiaryLand - Random ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chaos. It takes a special kind of person to crave destruction. To crave it like we crave it. To look it right in the eye, and invite it to spend the night. It's not that it's new. Quite wrong. It's been there all along, and I'm just helping it out by calling its name. The hair. The smoking. The tattoos, and piercings. They're all manifestations of the same personality. They just say what I can never say out loud. I can see it in the sun, right as it's about to set. And, it's no one's fault all anyone ever wants to do is fuck me. It's not that I can't be celibate. It's not a need. I don't care about it, with you, or anyone. Not now. Not that it's just empty, sometimes. Because the only reason I ever sleep with anyone is to feel the sweat that gathers between back and front in the middle of the night. If that isn't the reason, that tenderness, it's an obsession. And I need an obsession like I need a hole in the head. You will be the last person to sleep in my bed, as it will stay empty until I find someone worthy of putting up the fight it would cause. I don't know why you keep coming up. I'd like you to go away. Quit thinking about me, so I can stop feeling you try to get in. I can't be the only person that would fall asleep with a friend in the same bed, just to feel safe, just to feel the comfort of someone else. I've always loved Billy Joel. Even if he is the ugliest man on the planet. Life was so much more simple before I had hope. 8:01 p.m. - 2003-06-08 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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