Peace. Love. Rock n Roll.
|PEACE. LOVE. ROCK n ROLL.
blush.laugh.a high energy on a 5-min conversation.profess equality.respect authorship.beer in an afternoon.summer.heat and reggae music.
One. The first time I saw you and her in a picture, I wanted to take my entire arm, shove it inside of the computer and snatch the happiness right off of your face.
Two. If I ever see you in the street, I’m probably going to punch you in the throat.
Three. I apologize in advance. And I know that it makes no sense to have this much anger toward a man that I have never met face to face, but my definition of love is being robbed in an alley 8 times in a row and hoping there’s something about today that makes all of this different. There is nothing logical about cutting off the most important parts of yourself, and then putting them inside hands that shake, that tremble, that crack like a hatian sidewalk.
Four. There is nothing rational about love. Your love stutters when it gets nervous. Your love trips over its own shoelaces. Love is clumsy, and my heart refuses to wear a helmet.
Five. Cupid is fucking irresponsible, and I’m tired of him using me for target practice.
Six. I was told that time would heal all wounds. But what exactly do you do on days when it feels like the hands on your clock have arthritis?
Seven. She always wore her heart on her sleeve. So tell me, why the hell do you look so familiar?
Eight. I think I’ve seen you somewhere in her smile. Like I’ve heard your voice in her laughter. Like I’ve smelled your cologne on her thighs. I bet if we dusted her heart for fingerprints, we would only find yours.
Nine. I have this envelope. It’s full of all the butterflies I felt the first time she relaxed the velcro on her lips and smiled in my direction. I think most of them are still alive. I guess these belong to you, too."