Cola

That feeling--

when the stars seem to have aligned and your airy daydreams have materialized in solid form before you, and just as you are about to sink into this cloud of content bliss, the alarm rings and you're jolted back into another cold November morning where the dreams are as ephemeral as puffs of breath condensing in the frosty air--

I loathe it with a passion.

Morning Dribble

it was last night that i realized how much you remind me of that ghost of my past. 

"the smoke emerges from your lips, spindly grey arachnid legs prying their way out of your chiseled jaw, and all i can wonder is if you kissed me then if i'd find my own tongue covered in nicotine cobwebs."  

a tall lithe frame, a penchant for danger, the dumb naive thought that somehow i can reach within and touch the core of purity hibernating deep inside.

"You want what everybody wants. You want a love that consumes you. You want passion and adventure, and even a little danger..." 

i have suppressed everything again--this time not for my sake, but for hers. and yet, Pandora's box opened a fraction of an inch in my subconscious, and when i awoke this morning i realized just how easy it would be for me to fall to hell. i picture last night, the way your glance pierced through me in that haze of smoke, and all i could think of was how this has already happened to me once and one time too many.

because i've already learned, when you seek the heart of gold in the bad boy, your own will deform in the process.

this is how you lose her

avoid all eye contact

act aloof and disinterested

never appear at social gatherings that she is rumored to attend

a girl's got some pride, you know.

if you keep getting her hopes up, I'm gonna rip you a new one.