fickle at heart and in disposition; maybe i am satisfied with never having a satisfactory answer to “how are you?”

sometimes i feel half complete, walking around with a pie slice for a heart and leaving art museums without having seen a stroke of paint or even the noses on the lovely busts. i try to fill the asymptomatic cavity with words and friendships and smiles and boys and wants and goals and convincing desires but really, all i want is everything. who could settle for anything less?

(Source: bitotoy)