hangin

welcome to the black parade // my chemical romance

god, I love the rare days of losing myself from the world. how you sleep over and we will not speak to another person for 36 hours. there are friends I talk to every day that know by now. if I go quiet for a day and a half it’s only because we haven’t made it out of the bedroom. saturday afternoon, 2 o’clock and we’re still pondering breakfast. it’s too easy to be consumed by you. not just the hours spent running my hands over the subtle shiver in your spine, the grip of your fingers in my hair; but the conversation topics, pooling from one to the next. politics, poetry, the laughter in between. how my body lies on top of yours and my breath moves through you before coming back to me. the comfortable silence before we start again. you know, I remember a great recipe for chili, if you’re still hungry. come sit on the counter. tell me about a time in your life you keep returning to.