i want to grind your bones up and snort them into my existance like cocain. like magic powder. each particle flying up into my bloodstream. hitting me immediately when i see you walk past. i know you like spring knows raindrops and autumn knows orange leaves. the bare soft palms of your feet and the way they feel under my fingers when i'm pressing out your stress. crooked nails softly scratching at my back in the most classy of establishments. subtle sarcasm, no one catches it but me. on the same drug, on the same high. it makes me so hyper, i scream. and that pretty white dust makes me smile like mad.

i wish i had a strong voice in my brain that said "you're thinking too much again, sarah."

i'm done trying to find a reason for being here.
that part is certian.

but i still can't stop myself from wanting someone to want me,
or caring about what happens next,
or what has happened before.

those are my dirty little infinates.
my rusty little dreams.