The Arrow that Pierced the Dove’s Heart

The things that I love do not want my love. The things that I choose are so chosen because unreachable things are much more exciting – who doesn’t love to be lonely each night agonizing over each word to decide if there’s some way of cracking ineffable codes. The things that I love want me to go to the Yukon and freeze to death out in the snow. I’m so busy lately (isn’t everyone always?) – I’ve stated my case to each wall in this hallway fifteen million times and they still won’t respond like the upset young girl who won’t tell you what’s wrong.

Really, I’m built a bit like a Ken doll – they don’t take my pants off ’cause they’ve seen it all. My body is plastic, my brain’s China glue. I’m an arrogant bastard still screaming for you.

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~ by perfectionatrix on November 25, 2011.

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