“If there’s anything I’ve come to understand
it is that I no longer need you to fuck me as hard as I hate myself.
Make love to me like you know I am better than the worst thing I ever did.
Please go slow.
I’m new to this.
I have left my body to tell you.”—Buddy Wakefield (via allmymetaphors)
and I found myself in that familiar part of hell. Shadows under my eyes like beacons, lost again. “tell me what is important to you now” said the stillness. Said the eclipse from behind a cloud. “The ache I can’t help remembering. I just want to feel it all fill up again. To walk into something…