a good author once said, man was born for love and revolution.
maybe i'll whisper that beneath my breath as i crush the familiar man-made cage of patriarchy the same way i crush my darling's rose petals between my lips.
slowly, sweetly, quietly, like a gentle tug at a violin's strings.
maybe i'll whisper that beneath my breath as i tear everything that supposedly made me me apart, to put me back in a way that is me, from every drop of blood to my innermost beliefs.
the same way i let my beloved tear me apart, feasting on cherry sap and drunken thoughts, bright red ink and hushed intonations of love dripping onto the pages, the clothes, the sheets.
i'd destroy everything if that meant to be free. i'd burn down anything if that meant to get doused in water. i'd bring down every possible foundation if that meant to build my own and fly.
i want to be able to look into the mirror and think,
ah yeah. that's the one i've been looking for. hi.
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this is a messy thing written at nine pm what am i even doing with my life at this point -
as usual, for my lovely.
