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[Nov. 21st, 2009|01:37 pm] |
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I got out of the shower and I looked at my feet as I dried off my legs and noticed that the deep purple rug (deep purple like the color of the sky when you go outside at 3:30 in the morning) was decorated with Emily’s toe and fingernail clippings. It didn’t phase me though. Maybe it would have if it were anyone else, but since it was her it didn’t bother me. The shower had been refreshing and maybe that was what it was. I stepped out of the shower a new woman – I knew right then and there that this was the start of my new life. I had brand new skin and I had brand new hair and even though I might not look any different to anyone else, to me I was different. I felt different. I could just feel the difference penetrating through my hollow bones. Through my hollow veins and through my hollow heart, which didn’t pump blood, no, it didn’t pump anything but battery acid and rat poison. My veins were poison. My lungs were poison, my brain too. And all that was on my mind was you and whether or not you were okay. And you always start these out. And you always start these out thinking that there will be a moral and there will be some kind of a better meaning but what is all boils down to is “you” and not even I can think of a clever or witty ending to a story or a poem or a song anymore. Not one that isn’t “you” at least. Because that is what I have become. I have become you. Whether you like it or not, whether I like it or not. We just have to accept it and quite frankly, I could give a flying fuck about whether you want to accept this new affirmation or not. That is what it is you know, an affirmation. I used to think that one day when the sky is blue for all the day and not a single cloud gets in my way and one day when the sun shines on me for twenty-four straight hours without me having to move a step then that would be the day that you would not be the only thing on my mind. That would be the day when my life would finally begin to take shape of something else that is not you. I never thought so much could change with one shower. One life-changing, very revolutionary shower in which I realized that I was a true artist of the hair and that the hair that I was collecting on the walls of the shower and the hair that I had collected in the corner of the tub was not just me trying to save the drain from backing up – it was my art. No longer was my art in the way I held a pen or the way my voice cracked when I sang or any of that. It was hair. The wall of the shower was my canvas, and don’t forget the corner of the tub – the most key area. The piles of the hair which just kept growing – the hair that kept collecting – the hair of which 50% probably was not mine. I knew I needed to stop pulling out my goddamn hair and find a new form of art right then because there is no way I could keep this up and not end up bald by the time I reached 30. |
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| (no subject) |
[Nov. 21st, 2009|01:34 pm] |
Graceful, young, smart.
Awkward, goofy and tall.
It is a wonder how we ended
Up together. It is a wonder
Why I am so in love. Perhaps
your heart was lost in mine
Too big to turn another’s down, so tripled
In size it has. And given
To you is how.
Touch your velvet
Lips to mine is what I long
To do. I wonder if it’s un-
Comfortable for you. But you don’t
Seem to be bothered by this
Separating of the seas and
Therefore I am happy.
I say maybe I just love you
Because you give me something
To write about. You say maybe
And I can see the pain
In your hurricane eyes. Your
Fire is hot and flaming. It
Runs deeper than all oceans
and the tide is high.
It is a good day for fishing.
No one can sit still for
Much longer. My hands
Need something to hold.
Yours are double the size
Of mine, it is overwhelming
And scary and I don’t know
What to do but squeeze tighter.
You say that maybe you are just
Here so that you don’t get lonely,
And I say you are never alone, when you are
with me. You don’t know what to
Say back. No other girl is good enough for you.
I think this, not you. I know
This, not you. No other boy
Is good enough for me. I think
This, not you. I know this, not you.
When you are not around I am
Empty emptiness. I am lackluster. I am not a
Person. But you seem to be just
Fine. |
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| (no subject) |
[Nov. 21st, 2009|01:24 pm] |
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If you don't have a date, celebrate. go out and sit on the lawn and do nothing cause it's just what you must do. nobody does it anymore |
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| yeah, what do you say |
[Nov. 21st, 2009|01:23 pm] |
The boy I kiss and the boy I love, they are the same for once.
I have let my heart tear open on account of the breeze,
And it is there; so big and red and pumping.
When it was first ripped from my chest,
My rib cage cracked in half, left dangling there like a broken puppet, the strings still attached but they no longer offered any support. The pain was unbearable.
I could not sleep. I could not eat.
I had no interest in the things that had previously brought me pleasure.
Not that it was much, since there was only one fixation:
And it was the very obsession that my heart was trying to escape so hard for.
It made no difference what I wanted.
I was no longer in control.
My heart was.
Days, weeks and months went by.
My heart was exposed to all kinds of treacherous things.
More detestation, disgust, more fear and apprehension; the innocence my young heart had once known was no longer there. So I placed an ad in the newspaper.
“MISSING: THE INNOCENCE OF ONE YOUNG HEART. REWARD.”
The innocence was never recovered. But my heart grew tough.
Only to see his eyes and feel new hurt all over again.
Until as I have already mentioned,
The breeze blew my heart apart.
Now there is no going back and my heart is very literally on my sleeve.
The veins and chambers that once made up my heart are no longer there,
They have been lost somewhere in the ocean.
The salt has dried them up; I no longer need to breathe.
I no longer need to feel the blood rushing through my veins.
I just need the wind in my face and to feel the warmth of another body at night.
Pressed up against mine whispering,
“I love you, but I do not care. I love you, but I cannot care.”
** apparently i wrote this on Nov 11, 2007. i forgot about it |
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