I’m floating in pine needles and the smell of roses is so relaxing that i want to drift away to sleep here in this warm, pink bath.
Somehow i end up finding my way through the needles and petals and there you are again, my animus. your broad shoulders…I want to nuzzle against your chest while my hands trace your jaw and clavicle…
I try to breathe you in but you slip away again. …like a syringe In my hands that i keep fumbling with and I drop into an ocean of my racing thoughts.
God, why do I think this much?
Ugh not the alarm already
It was such a nice dream state… Fuck the fucking alarm.