blurt

oh my god is there no there other way than operating platform nightmares past midnight in april? and i want a land where passion drips from lips and paranoia is banished but we hold it oh so close, this need to wonder to question to interrogate. i'm full. and there is laughter echoing through the house, like nice music, like keeping me awake. and a stare across the darkened doorway pierces the dusky air, allows a flutter gut, a truth lull.