this is how the end of the world is measured:
in every dream of normalcy, & I’m racking them up. I told my mother that I dreamt of skipping school, & she asked if I ever had, so this is how one justifies lying to their mother: protection, because this is how she justifies lying to me, & if I told her it all she wouldn’t understand her child anymore. my naivety is fading & all I am left to do is miss: not knowing how to be in love with someone, & not knowing how to love anyone afterwards. I have been treading water in puddles of false habit for a while now, & it only took an overflowing of disarray to realize. (I am glorifying false versions of myself) [all anyone can ever be is human] there should be more synonyms for all, more encompassing words to mean so much at once. my Animal Crossing creatures have begun ballroom dancing, & all I want are moonlit nights, weekdays, choking on whispers & stars we can’t see from the city, blisters covering our ankles. we are evolving through each state of madness, (the current is:) in which we forget that lying in the street could ever be dangerous. |