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analoguenostalgia
"So there's this girl, a tall girl, with eyes like honeycomb and jasmine.
Sometimes she blows cigarette smoke in your face in the break room, and you call that love.
Not because it is, but because you want it to be.
Because you're so goddamned lonely, so goddamned unable to handle the ocean roar in your ears when you're alone.
You tell yourself that the ash in your lungs is as good as a kiss goodnight, and you write poems about the smoke tendrils whispering off her lips.
How beautiful they are, how like the aching arms of god you always wanted them to be."
