your head is on fire

by Rachel Lynch in


One day bleeding into the next, I cannot go home, its much too quiet. Wild love and midwest smiles, sometimes sadness is overrated.You've got the dusty blues and I like to crawl. Even though its late, we can still be friends, friends and lovers.

I don't think you're afraid. Sleeping in my own bed feels like a sin, its hard to sink back into this life again. A volatile, easily vaporized experience that passes quickly, like a bomb in the water. Put out the fire, turn off your mind for the next day or two. It's only the natural world, and nature's better in the dark. Nature's louder in the silence.

The laws of floating were not developed by the contemplation of the sinking of things.

what's the story morning glory?