BREAKaBEAT
Ex-Bluelighter
Never start your sentences with I. I want I think I feel I am I love I hate I am extremely self obsessed. Hate is a good word to start things off with. I hate. Opps! Hate is a feeling I ascribe to nearly everyone I know. Hate your happiness. The way you laugh when your friend touches your shoulder. Hate your bronzed glowed full fatted cheeks, that expand with memories of other touches that began on the shoulder and ended with fingertips stroking foreheads. That was ok now, thats how friendship expands and Im not quite understanding when she says she felt like they connected to make that happen. Push is something I understand. Get away from me is something else. To move backwards and break a glass incase she tried to make me laugh at her sex in the city reference. Her shoes are yellow and bold and Im meant to admire them at breaklight speed and know which underpaid over-exalted brand crafted such a monstrosity. My smiles are too slow a reaction to matters I dont care about and any chance from shoulder to fingertips stroking is now lost.
Last edited:
