lately i've been reading as much as i used to. and i'm really enjoying the innocent colours that seem to be coming into all the fashion magazines. particularly Elle- which is currently waiting for me in front of the fire. it's cover is soft and precious in light purples.
the pale colours of all these pictures almost feel like i'm standing in the middle of one of the tiny, candlelit sweetshops in my dreams. that is such a syrup-y feeling.
Try as he might he's unable to speak
He grabs her by the hair, strokes her cheek
Take me like that, ruin it all
Then build it again by the light in the hall
He drops to his knees says please my love, please
I'll kill who you hate, take off that dress, you won't freeze
He starts with her back cause that's what he sees
When she's breaking his heart she still fucks like a tease
Release to the sky, look him straight in the eye
And tell him that now, that you wish he would die
You'll never touch him again so get what you can
Leaving him empty just because he's a man
So good when it ends, they'll never be friends
One more night, that's all they can spend
She's gone, she got out before you woke,
and as always; last night, neither of you spoke.