Yes, Your Heart Stopped At 5:05 Am. You Still Have So Much Time Left Across The World. Frida Kahlo Painted

We yearn for immortality, yet dismiss the ones who've danced with the elixir as mad.

my mind is like a goddamn river. not serene or calm or peaceful, but every thought rushing by too fast and gone before I can fully understand it. I, myself can barely remain afloat in these deep waters. so do you really want to break down my walls, the dams I've built over the years? will you drown in these rushed waters too? and if you manage to swim, would you bring me to my shores with you?

Hope’s a terrific tragedy, oh she’s brilliant but what a lazy bee. She's got bloodied knees and dirt on her white lace, she strums her guitar with a common finesse, her bare feet have known many lies, her hands remain scuffed from weaving said lies. Such pretty and poised lips, such a tragedy they only speak your repetitive prophecy, as she sings you to your sweet imminent death, comfortably. Lay your head on her lap won’t you? Her knuckles might gain the color they lost a lifetime ago. you'll find her in bar fights, in the shimmering glitter of casinos. she kisses you before the most important day of your life, so steady, so warm and now as you lie awake, roughly carving out the edges of a hurried plan B, think darling, wasn't it just a casual fling?

Walking through the machines, They’d see blued bones Every place you held me in. Bated breaths from them peeling The suitcase we let gather dust, How come we’re on the same flight, Just in different terminals? The plane which took off before mine, carried the longing with it, And what is your love without the yearning mixed in it? Not the shaking when we landed, Face first in deep so called regret, Ignored the rumbling of shoved voices, What could be better than your heart’s erratic noises, When I pass through the crimes of unforgivable circumstances?

And just like infinity, we can't get to the ending, happy or sad. We can't skip to the - how does this end? We've gotta start at the beginning, working our way through everything, walking up to the next room everytime something shifted. And maybe, maybe if we're lucky our love will be eternal. Throughout the parallel universes, throughout our mortal lifetimes. A flip of a coin, fingers brushed together by an accidental paint stroke, a step to the next room.

Pluto spun around the sun, until its light was too blinding, even for its love struck eyes to take. So it withdrew its orbit, pulling back as if leaving makes the river run softer, like leaving wouldn't marr the existence of anything else in its stead. Bask in the afterglow with me and tell me love, do the golden rays seem harsher from my window?

you are now now now and its running through your fingers like sand sand sand and you can never stop the flow and it's just electricity between flirting neurons but oh you've never been here before and you never will be here reading this again and its so precious and limiting and infinite and its hard to breathe thinking of how sand slipped and fell and sank just sixty two words ago and in that time it took me to count you've already lived so much, each blink registering the frame of a spark you'll never feel again. it rushes like fire stuck falling. too much to hold not enough to grasp. and the typewriter eternally damns us to the human condition. stops.

it was supposed to be a friendly game of chess, but I suppose that made me forget we were still on the opposite sides of the board. you played a queen's gambit, and did win in the end, but failed to realize that entailed losing your queen too, until it was too late.

Blinded by the light is such a sick, dizzy and warm feeling. Like Apollo embracing you, but his rays slowly seeping in and burning your skin. Like gradually being pulled into sweet nothing, and the pain being felt as nothing but pure bliss.

That 'always an angel, never a god' made me think of 'always a choice, never the one chosen'

How I hate immortalizing you, but what am I if not loved by you? what is a sunflower without her golden star? what am I to do but turn to your gaze from afar? just clinging, hoping that desperately, that your light's just for me and no one else, that I'm the worn out hoodie that always hugs your frame, and maybe I did deserve it after all, how else would Icarus ever fall?