MrsUnderground

one. heart-racing butterfly breaths line my stomach like lye dissolving my organs into an acidic soup of confusion two. i frequently feel the urge to cry and laugh at the same time three. i want to see you watermelon-rind smile like Christmas morning like last day of classes like {i'm going to the doctor tomorrow} four. speaking in body language, i want to tell you hundreds of things and i know you understand but sometimes i wonder-wish on birthday candles that the things i'm telling you didn't really happen five. iloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyou six. words are like veins to me and veins are like kitestrings – you can only c

  Today was the day my cat exploded.  It wasn't spectacular – it just exploded with a furious carnage across the sitting room. Perhaps I shouldn't have let it bite the wires in the fuse box… The mess itself was uninspiring; the walls would need a good bleach attempt and the couch itself was ruined. I took my coat out of the cupboard and, shifting a stack of unopened bills and other pleasantries from infront of the door, made my way outside to go to my depressingly dreary work.  The blisteringly cold air of January assaulted my face relentlessly as I did my coat up. Plugging in my headphones, I shuddered as an alarmingly loud