We’ve so effortlessly slit each other open without hesitation, and now the tempo of our lives pour from our finger tips as we drum on our worn down tables. Fast and uneasy, gone before you even know it, just as the great love affairs we so easily forget.

We love violently and at the end of the day we lay our heads on pillows that have seen so much in the dawn when we crawl to our sleep in clothes worn out from the endless days and nights.

We are moving now, moving back to the beds of friends who make it feel like the homes we never really knew. Hands in-between warm thighs as our summer skin sticks to leather couches where you once spilled your heart and drinks that managed not to stain.

It’s this nervous feeling now that washes over us all, the same nervousness that presses lips against lips and hips against hips so avidly. When the night comes to cover our tracks left behind, we will ride in fast cars and not worry about the prices we always pay.

We’re looking for something new, its not enough to feel our feet hit the pavement with these impatient steps. So we sit on edge with fidgejoujouting fingers and twirling hair, we click our tongues and tap our feet to the beats of songs that never really meant a thing. They spit their songs with those melodies of words so weightless that it rolls off their tongue before they even know what is intended. We’re waiting anxiously for something, but we don’t know what. And it’s almost time to go. But when I say these words, as trite as it may appear, I feel it when they roll off my lips and collapse because they never seem to reach your ears. I hope you listen, before you become just another person I once knew.