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[westiemae]

please forgive my form, dear, for these tiny plastic cubes upon which i press cannot possibly express the love i feel for you. with each click, each tap, my heart grows more frustrated in that they cannot scream to you. these tiny, molded squares grasp sweat and grime from tired fingers, never complaining, only gripping onto their plastic home

Comments

[maybelline9]

strange how dreams can become permanent when they are, by nature, ephemeral

[westiemae]

so true. but i suppose maybe dreams are our bodies way of telling us things it knows we couldnt handle if we had the option to fight back.

[maybelline9]

i like that, the inability to fight back while sleeping ... rings painfully true