i want a baby. not to be pregnant, or a mother, just - to have a baby with long eyelashes and a tiny plump mouth, and translucent fingernails, to hold and tuck into blankets and whisper to. to name and dress and feed and fall asleep holding, so gentle, for the first time in my life: sleeping and holding something, but not with the ferocity i always do. not trying to break my arms with it.

i know it's just hormones, but at the same time, i just. i want something tiny and helpless and beautiful in my life. something that will love me unconditionally because i can meet its needs.

and i know it's unfair to ask that of anyone else. and i know it's unfair to ask anyone to listen to the things i say (s.o.s. signals that sound in the dark) and i wish i could speak them out loud anyway. i'm scared to call your answering machine anymore. i'm scared you'll pick up & be distant. i'm scared you won't pick up (just because it's me.)


as much as i love reading "necklace of kisses", at the same time... weetzie bat should never have grown up. this is an admission of my own immaturity; an admission of how deep the desire for love goes.