"It’s not me. It’s you…"
"Phase 3."
"I can’t handle this right now."
rose is a rose is a rose: I Want To Write Something →
Roses have been written of in different ways that are all the same.
When I search for rhymes for the moon all I get is cliches and you.
I try to write about what I know because that’s what I’m supposed to do,
but then I write about me and there’s enough of that littering the floor.
I want to…
"You would love the way he sees you. He uses you as a weapon against himself and not merely because you did. He sits in his car at traffic lights on his way out sometimes and tries to estimate how many times he has sat here, waiting at these traffic lights on his way somewhere without you, hoping to meet someone with the capacity to consign you to an anecdote, to be eventually confused with others. He thinks of you when the woman lying next to him thinks he’s asleep."
seven types of ambiguity by Elliot Perlman (via a-r0se-is-a-r0se)
(Source: jfkennedy, via a-r0se-is-a-r0se-deactivated201)
