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| I'm waiting for tidal waves to strike me numb and toss me into its
depths, comforting me with its choking grasp. Breathing underwater
never seemed so easy; water filling up my lungs, becoming who I am. Add
water to water and you get me. Swaying back and forth to the music that
haunts my ears. Gasping for air underneath five layers of water and I'm
never going to get it. I can't try to swim now because it won't do me
any good; I'm too far gone now. Close my eyes and the picture on the
back of my eyelids is of you. This picture is going to be the death of
me. I can handle the water filling up my lungs, and the constant battle
of the waves. But I'm losing this lost battle of odds and ends.
Fumbling on coral reefs and pretty plants as I twist and turn the pages
of our novel of what used to be. It's okay though because I know that
these lungs won't be made of iron for much longer and they'll collapse;
burying everything deep inside of me. Comforting me with its final
goodbye; the goodbye I thought I'd never say. But it's okay because
every breath I take is a bomb waiting to implode. Finally finding my
place here in the deep depths of the sea. Here I lie in my final
resting place.
Don't miss me too much. | | |
| I look into the mirror and I'm disgusted with the reflection that I
see. It can't really be me, can it? The absence of you by my side makes
the bags around my eyes grow bigger every single minute. I stay awake waiting for the knock on the door, or the ring of my phone.
I don't even recognize who this person is anymore. It's sad what's
happened since that night where once of us should have died. ((no
completion))
________________
i found comfort in fire this beautiful april evening. even though i
hate fire. i took the old letters that i wrote, and i read them. i
stepped outside of myself, and i watched the tears roll down this girls
cheek. she was so lonely and so beautiful with black mascara streaks
and a want that just wouldn't go away. i wanted to hold her and tell
her that everything was going to be okay, but i couldn't promise her
that so i just sat there and held her. she never felt me. so i went
back inside of myself and i took my lighter ((for those cigarettes that
i've never smoked but keep in my purse)) out of my purse and the flame
flickered when i pressed the button. i saw beauty in the flames.
nothing i'd ever seen before. i took those loveletters and burned them.
slowly; one by one. as the flames consumed the paper, i renamed the
letters to hateletters. because they brought back memories in which i
hate. so now that the hateletters are gone, i can stop these tears from
crying. i can step outside of myself and watch myself be not-so-lonely.
i can watch myself smoke those cigarettes in my purse. as i light up a
cigarette, i inhale, and i exhale. blowing out smoke; making the
letters escape my head. ((i find comfort in the flames now as my lungs
fill up and bottom out. i'm leading myself to an early grave.))
| | |
| I've come to the conclusion that it's only you. It's always only been
about you. Every smile I see brings me back to you. Every couple
holding hands places that picture in the back of my head; the one where
we're holding hands, walking down the pathway at the park on a
beautiful autumn evening.The letters that the mailman carries day in
and day out all remind me of you. Remebering the letters that we sent
back and forth to eachother. It's always been about you.
I remember that one time when you said that it was going to be a shock,
but I already knew what was coming. I could feel it in my bones. And
when you said it, I knew, I knew from that moment on that the rest of
my life was only going to be about you. I cried. I never told you,
though.
We've been over the small talk and the big talk multiple times over.
We've explored eachother inside and out. Posing for a magazine cover of
the most wonderful couple ever. Staying up into early mornings of the
hours. Sometimes getting grounded, but it was worth it. You always made
me laugh.
Hungry Hungry Oprahs and poooot.
Oh, and don't forget making me feel like the worst person in the world
whenever we'd talk about downs syndrome people. You know that always
made me laugh. I know I'm a bad person, but it's just so funny. It was grand times. Oh, and don't forget the dinosaur?! that's a camera!
And I remember how much I made you giggle. I always loved it when you'd
laugh hard, but you'd always hate it. And I always hate it when you got
me laughing loud, because I'd always end up snorting. Do it! Do it! C'monnnn! Do it! Always making me laugh harder and harder just to hear me snort. I'd turn so red after I snorted, but you couldn't see that.You used to say that I completed you. I used to make you laugh and smile. I'm
starting to question if I ever mattered to you, and if I was a "dent"
in your lifetime, or even that. I'm starting to forget that you'd ever
said that you loved me because it doesn't really matter now, does it?
You've changed. Or maybe it was me that changed. But I don't know you
anymore, and you don't know me anymore. It's been awhile, so I don't
expect you to know me. It's been awhile since you called me that
special name. People grow, people learn, people hurt. But I'm always
yours. And I always have been. I don't know you anymore, but I
still love you. I still have you somewhere, but it's disappeared. Maybe
after awhile it'll come back. Maybe after awhile it'll disappear some
more, leaving a bigger scar in the tear of my seams. I don't remember
you anymore. I don't remember your smile, or your laugh, or your voice.
I don't remember the names you called me, or that names I called you. I
can't recall a single thing; only except for all the times we had
together. I never knew your name.
| | |
| I write more letters than words I say. I've never sent them any my stamps
are waiting to be used. Seal it with a kiss? I'll seal it with a bullet
and a write hanger making sure that reading it will be hard and nearly
impossible to do. My mouth is sewn shut and knows no form of
communication. It would be nice if once in awhile I could shout a few
things but he made it impossible when he took his raxor sharp nails and
cut my throat, then violently ripped out my voicebox. At least he was
nice enough to sew me back together. My neck left bloodied and sore.
But atleast he made it so that I'll never hurt anyone with cold words
like he did to me. Now, I'm confined to writing silly little love
letters that will never be sent. | | |
| i've had this song stuck in my head for ages; it's such a familiar tune
but the words seem to have disappeared a long time ago. reluctantly, i
try to recall the words of the song with no avail. i can't grasp what
song it is and my head throbs trying to remember it. maybe someday i'll
remember, or perhaps time will heal it, or maybe it will somehow fade.
but until then a struggle that i've been fighting forever won't cease. | | |
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