i don't want my heart to run in my chest, thump against the wall of my mouth. but i don't want it to curl like asleep, tucked beneath the bed of my tongue.

a lot is red, a lot is grey. and to think she even asked me why i liked two "such opposite end of the spectrum" shades.

can i hold you? far away...

it makes me sick that they've looked us up and down and classified us as "fuckable" and "unfuckable." i told justin last night that i am very, very tired of being rated, as a chick, as a student, as a thinker, as a daughter, as a writer, as a person. but maybe i'm just too fragile acting. maybe things will pass. and do i want them to.