Time & Space
by druscilla.
Click your heels together three times. There’s no place like home. And you feel so much sometimes that it twists you in all sorts of directions. Your mind is stuck three years ago on a date with a girl whose name you can’t remember, but you do remember when she kissed you and you got some of your lipgloss on your mouth. Your ears are stuck a year ago after a fight and you were listening to this song on repeat, crying and trying to make yourself stop, angry for your weakness, pissed at his stupidity. He’s such an idiot. Always has been.
Your feet are on the floor of a movie theater some December ago when a certain movie came out that you saw at ten PM on Christmas Day. It was cold out and dark and when you went outside and saw the stars something inside of you changed and you haven’t written the same way since.
Your hands are fisted in his hair during a slow song. He jokingly said you should dance in the living room. And it started off that way, but it lead to kissing and clothes on the floor. The couch isn’t the softest place in the world, but it sure beats rug burn. And it wasn’t like either of you expected the dance to end any other way.
You think your heart is in a jar somewhere. It’s so cold, so isolated. You feel so much, too much, not enough. Your feel like you’re ice and boiling at the same time. If you could turn it all off, if you could turn it all up. But that’s never going to happen.
You’re just stuck in this mess. You forget this song exists until it comes up on shuffle.
And then your body parts go flying back in time and space.
Dammit.
Your feet are on the floor of a movie theater some December ago when a certain movie came out that you saw at ten PM on Christmas Day. It was cold out and dark and when you went outside and saw the stars something inside of you changed and you haven’t written the same way since.
Your hands are fisted in his hair during a slow song. He jokingly said you should dance in the living room. And it started off that way, but it lead to kissing and clothes on the floor. The couch isn’t the softest place in the world, but it sure beats rug burn. And it wasn’t like either of you expected the dance to end any other way.
You think your heart is in a jar somewhere. It’s so cold, so isolated. You feel so much, too much, not enough. Your feel like you’re ice and boiling at the same time. If you could turn it all off, if you could turn it all up. But that’s never going to happen.
You’re just stuck in this mess. You forget this song exists until it comes up on shuffle.
And then your body parts go flying back in time and space.
Dammit.