Oh my days!
Manic Pixie Dream Girl
Said the pen: I can’t reach the page
All over my bed
If we weren’t lovers I’d call us twins trapped in the same womb, born of the same blood. The two of us in an ongoing tussle tumbling round and round, all our colours swishing into each other and swapping places.
And if you left now it would break the heart we share that keeps ours beating.
But I’d find a way to live without your hand in mine and your bum in my face and my flesh pressed into your flesh and your thoughts in my head and our feelings squashing us into this embryonic space.
Maybe we’ve outgrown each other, maybe we can’t live without each other, maybe we’ve killed each other, maybe we love each other.
I’ll never need you because I’ll always have you; I’ll never miss you because you’ll always be there. Even after birth when the need for separation would pull us apart, even then would we be exactly the same. Just less natural.
I hope you feel like shit.
2 parts moody,
2 parts fine,
1 part the clown,
5 parts divine.
The shower after the night before.
Fights better than she feels.
If you don’t come back soon I’m going to kill our dream. Before you’ve even fully envisioned it I’m going to cut it out black from that colouring book we loved. Why won’t you comply? Why won’t you be complicit in my illusion? Completely. I allude to you, only you, all the time. It’s harrowing. We’re the opposite of a rainbow. I don’t even know who you are whilst knowing everything in your little little mind. That’s what I…i…i…
There is an elephant in the room, and it is Jesus.