Chewed a stick of expectation and hid it under my shoe yesterday. Threw boulders at your window because I ran out of pebbles.
I miss the spaces in between, and I hate the emptiness of everything. We say but never mean (it).
This may sound like gibberish to you, but I think I'm in a tragedy. She asked to borrow my heart. I told her she could, but only if she promised not to capture the pieces, and to just play for checkmate.
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We will forever be a community of writers asking you to fall in (love) or be taken (hostage.) We only want to make you smile, and encourage you to pick up the pen, or start using those fingers on your keyboard!
