Laying here, listening to the rain and thunder outside the window. The fan blowing lazy air over my sweaty, sticky skin. My hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, and clad in the barest of essentials.

It's nights like these that make me want to be an artist, a musician, a poet. I want to create beautiful things and have beautiful people appreciate them. It makes me want to make love in the dark and have someone trace their fingers across the ink etched into my skin. It makes me want to live in a little flat in a busy city and have a little bartending job and a yellow kitchen.

Tonight/you just close your eyes

And I just/watch you

Slip away.