Sunday 12/16/2007 01:55:00 AM

You're a pretty snake. As far as snakes go. Your apple is shiny. Your fangs are sweet with nectar. I'm not tempted so much as infatuated. How often is it that we lie to ourselves this well?

Pinwheels stuck into the heart. Quiet. Waiting for the wind to blow.

You can come and find me when you've hated yourself long enough to consider loving someone else. Until then, I won't be waiting. You free to love me once you've exhausted all your other options, but I'll be gone.

I'm just not that good of a person. And even if I were, you don't deserve her sympathy.

Pinwheels stuck into each other. Dull knives wearing pretty dresses. Empty vagina's weighing gods in the shadows of testicles. I could blow them and be done with it. I could close my eyes and find the men, but all I want is the illusion. Pinwheels. Lazy gods waiting to be spun.

Love is knowing when not to save yourself.

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