twelve april
twelve : forty-two a.m.

i wonder if i'll ever get tired of this. of small words and insecurities. and i wonder what would make that happen. what would make me want to shut it down, pack it up, throw it out.

and i want to call him, even though that message isn't directed at me. even though we never could talk on the phone. even though i have nothing to say.

music : silence
literature : nothing
fixation : phone