my head whips around, way too quickly, in a dayquil+nyquil whirl. pink dress and combat boots, that’ll get your attention and it does. i wish i had shoes like that or a smile like that, or even the ability to smile at all. if theres a bridge like that, in the world somewhere, then everything will be just fine. the rusty, metallic aura of existing here is just a crossroad over a stream or a deep valley. i’ll have to walk it, but i’ll arrive.
i come here to find a reason to hate you, looking among my poetry for pain. alas, all i find is happy moments. little fragments of my memory that scream of happiness around you. and happiness surrounds you. you say, i’m sorry i hope you understand. and i do, i always have, but then i was fragile and you hurt me too.
elle ne m’aime pas, elle ne m’aime pas, elle ne m’aime pas, elle ne m’aime pas: the words will resonate in your brain, reverberating in the silent hollows of your sadness until you start to believe its true; when you look in the mirror of my eyes and see your face, you’ll know i always did. i hope i make you eat your words: swallow, choke.
the lump slides down my throat until it becomes a knot in my stomach and it all builds on itself and my insides cave in on each other. i tell myself it’ll all be over soon, it’ll all be okay. this is all a dream, this is all a dream, this is all a dream.. i wake up screaming and i never forget until i fall back asleep and have the same dream again. its a vicious cycle and you fit into it just perfectly. maybe if they knew they’d have warned you: she’s a plague, she’s a disease.
your words felt good against my ears where they rustled and then died in the dark hollows.
we tear down walls to break through barriers and then i fall onto you on the floor. its an old house, an empty house. so many wooden floors and exposed boards. i am cold and hard until you melt me and then i am just exposed. i remember you — fingertips, lips, eyelashes — so cooly and with no remorse. i wake up and miss you a little more. we break down barriers and then i fall into myself and get lost there. waiting.
you walk like some sort of triumvirate of people i wanted and could not have. all this year, you know. i said: be with me, oh please oh please and you said no. all in the course of a year. although you said it in far less words. i’m not what you want. or you just didn’t know i cared. or you give no explanation. but i want you and i can’t have you.
