SA - AAP- PY (psycho-sappy)

Last night GreenEyes and I went to see Band of Horses at the Fillmore. The show wasn’t too shabby… the lead singer had this amazing voice… amazing in the sense that he didn’t necessarily want to be a lead singer, perhaps just a guitarist, but he was born with this insane voice that he projects effortlessly… as though that’s how he speaks... and he was the quintessential reluctant rockstar.

I was mesmerized by him the entire night… maybe because he had a startling resemblance to Bad Break-Up, a familiarity of a man I once thought I’d be with forever… and also because there was something so raw about him… something that in my MJ high induced state I found so seductive making me feel this weird reticence or something… that I was suddenly exposed… rather powerless, giving myself up to this imperfect man’s voice and presence… and realizing how psychotic I am about live music and weed…

And I began wondering how he loved… did he love like me? like how I… desperately wanted to feel his (not him in particular, more my “soulmate” that I don’t believe in, but really do) sweat leaving his pores and entering mine… and having more of his spit in my mouth than of my own… how I wanted to trace his tattoos with my fingertips… and run my tongue along the scars of his body… how I wanted to feel him so deep inside of me… with our juices mixing together to become another kind of cum… and when tears fall from his eyes, I want them on my cheeks… I want to taste their salt and feel their pain… and to grip one another so tightly that I can hardly breathe… and all I can breathe is his breath… and to feel my cheeks pressed so hard together that it almost hurts… and I want to know everything about him… every memory… every dark moment… every night he cried himself to sleep… wondering where I was… and I just want to look at him… I just can’t take my eyes off of him because I can’t believe it’s him… because I want to absorb his every expression… and I’m so the type to go get matching tattoos… to share this ink, this permanence… to have our blood drawn in the same form… to have him marked on my body... and then maybe the next week I’ll go back and have it covered by some silly tiger because it hurt so badly to love him… because I couldn’t take living on the brink of implosion or explosion… could it be possible to swallow a man… to be swallowed by a man? Could this kind of love last forever… and I go to shows and I do this and that and wonder... I wonder who’s my kind.