(dream)

time can be bended if you take enough drugs or sleep less. one usually follows the other, and sometimes you can have a few cigarettes and watch rings of smoke up into a heaven’s gate. mostly you live in your head, and it seems you will never get out. sometimes you are neither, and you are simply music in the air on sparkling lights. time can be inside your palm, if you bend it small enough, if you keep doing drugs. grief cannot reach me, here where it is no where.

i thought i could pass this time, simply let the hours collect and move past, i thought i could survive out the rest of my days. find an esoteric epiphany to justify all the years gone. but it is late at night, i’m fucking high again, and i’m thinking of the heaven between her legs. she didn’t have to do much, this dark eyed woman with drawn on tattoos and sunshine in her veins. she didn’t have to do much to have met lie in her mercy, at her mercy. her black top was lacey and her bra loose, and in between i saw god somewhere. her hands fit into mine, and her eyes almost flutter. i run my hand along her jaw, already knowing this girl can shatter my heart. it is slow and calm, till it is her hand on my hip. we couldn’t even dance, before her lips crash again, rose and cherry and something holy.

which god said it is a sin, and did he know i’d drown in her before i kneel before him? nothing felt sinful except that i wish i were a better woman. i’m half here, i’m half alive. we watched weird cat animations, these scruffy skewed lines smoking cigarettes over a cup of coffee shared. i wanted to swallow her scent and memorize her taste, i wanted to hold her hair and bow my head to her. god was never where they all are. there is a revolution. i’m just a girl, inside a room with more nostalgia than reality, but she is a girl inside here and under her, is where god lies. god lies with the revolution and he made me to love her, and all her beauty on a shrine. i want to be very alive, somewhere far from all of this and i want her to look the way i look at her. i want to make her eyes half flutter in ecstasy. i want to have vulgar lesbian sex with her and i want to read her poetry. i wanna be so alive and i wish i wasn’t in love. call it limerence, call it obsession but i wanna be alive and inside her smile i am infinite.

i sometimes think she is a dream and did too many drugs, and took too many pills. some red some yellow and some these plastic capsules. they try to change my brain chemistry and release happy chemicals and slow my heart and curb the part that gets a piercing at 10 am in the morning. i am scared i bent time into dreams and it is all giant floating, and it was not real and she’s simply the hope stubbornly on my purpled lips and diluted eyes. she’d be the best thing i dreamt. this dark eyes dark curled girl has me praying again, this girl showing me god.