Second Kisses.

I'd So Toast Her Note.

I really crave needles in my hands.
My inky fingers intwined with yours.

There is something so romantic about knuckle tattoos.

They sit on opposite sides of the sofa.
Let's never be like that. Let's always hold hands.

- Dagger.

I'm Sorry You're Out.

She Takes Pretty Pictures.

I literally have no idea what to wear tonight.
And I've just realised this towel that's been on my bed all day is actually really wet and actually smells really bad.

Good times.

- Dagger

Bird.

Photographer.
Lady In RED.

It's moments like this that I can close my eyes and believe it when you tell me I'm beautiful.

-Dagger.

We Hate This City.

Photographer.

I bury my head in grammar.
A double bed which is utter luxury after the basement in Chelsea.
Kisses which I will miss. Deep and feeling and full of love.
I run through his curly hair. Hair wax that smells like herbal tea.
He touches my shaved head in the same way you’d touch a cat.
I melt into him. His strong chest which makes me Scarlett O’Hara.
Stomach and arms and silk.
His skin is always so warm and I want to surround myself with him.
I could drown in his sweat. I could drown in his skin.
I could wrap his hair around my body and live on for ever happy.
Side by side by side by side for ever by your side.
Hips grinding together I want to swallow in his love.
The City of Brighton is on fire.

-Dagger.

Children.

I hope she doesn't mind me posting this...

-Dagger.

We Cannot Cling To Those Dreams.

I am going to be sad.

This post is going to have paragraphs rather than random statments. Hopefully.

So. Last night I ripped my nose stud out taking my glasses off in a really stupid way. It bled and I swore a lot.
My mum is quite good in a dilema.

The stupidest thing I've said today: "I still look like a dirty fucking hardcore bitch in my pjs."
Not quite.

Oh. I had a photo shoot on monday morning. My photographer insisted I bring lots of different PVC outfits and then looked terrified of every single one. We got some quite good shots though. Meh.

I like being blonde. I like it a lot. Feeling girly/quirky/pretty/more like my actual self. Scared of learning to swim/ having to take my hair and make up off to do it.
Bikini shopping was horrific and he rang me and I swore at him.

FUCK.

I got drunk and cried in the pub and he told me I look really pretty when I cry even if it makes his insides hurt.

FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK.

I'm so boring when I actually talk.

-Dagger.