She found the scrap of paper, crinkled between the pages of her sketchbook. The folds and creases were seemingly endless until she finally reached the meaning. Nothing has ever rang more true and she desperately needed to remember this feeling. "And I am content to walk a little slower because there is nowhere that I really need to be. But these are days we dream about when the sunlight paints us gold. And this apartment could not be prettier as when we danced up there alone. This t.v. is old, the color's fucked. Do you see the difference in the shades? But the green is still close to green, my love. And I believe we are the same. And we'll stay like this, all gold and green." The lyrics comforted her heart and put her mind at ease. Everything's fine, baby girl. Stop worrying, and live.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Friday, November 13, 2009
The Fall Of A Friendship Like This Is Like The Fall Of A Tree When No One Is Around; Welcome To Make Believe, Darling. This Friendship Never Existed.
She sat on her bed, letting her legs dangle in the stale air of fallacy. The delicate manner in which she handled the old book was ineffable. Why was she so careful with this one? "Please take care of me," it begged of her. A strand of her long, auburn hair fell to her face from behind her ear. She sighed and lifted her heavy hand to involuntarily replace the wandering strands. Her gaze turned downward and her vision became blurry--a feeling she was all too familiar with the past year. Choking back the sharp hint of new tears, she held her breath and opened the book in her well worn hands. The cover had taken a perpetual beating from continuously falling off that precariously laid shelf.The pages were wrinkled and used. Nonetheless, the words--some barely recognizable through a year's worth record of teardrops--are ingrained in her mind. She knew what the story meant. It was a quest for something real; something real to understand and be a part of, but where could 'real' be found? It had meant so much to her and so little to him. The friendship was nothing more than a white lie. Something imagined. Something to stretch the truth. You want the definition? It's the only way in which you think, always asking for proof. Well, Love, 'real' is compassion and friendship and love and understanding and a sense of something true. Did you not find that here?
So, go ahead and wrack your mind for the single most real thing in your life. You won't find any notion of it; it's gone. Imagined. Fake. Pretend. Make believe. It never existed because you refuse to open those robotic eyes of yours.
So, go ahead and wrack your mind for the single most real thing in your life. You won't find any notion of it; it's gone. Imagined. Fake. Pretend. Make believe. It never existed because you refuse to open those robotic eyes of yours.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Part II
She had no more fight left in her. She had absolutely nothing to say anymore and he had exhausted every ounce of her much too giving heart.
Someone please tell me it's not worth it. I need a legitimate excuse that I can believe. I need it. Please.
Someone please tell me it's not worth it. I need a legitimate excuse that I can believe. I need it. Please.
Monday, November 9, 2009
Wouldn't It Be Nice? Well, Now You Won't Hear Her Whistling Anymore
And again, he forced her to watch him drive away down the road, without looking back. The tires kicking up dust, sprinkling her red dress that he was supposed to love. Her heart sighed heavily and for a heartbreakingly silent second, the world thought it imagined her speaking something so soft and broken, "Maybe we'll meet again, love." But, she dropped her head, held her tongue, forgot the song, tied her shoe and started walking off.
It was a long year. Try two more...or don't.
It was a long year. Try two more...or don't.
Sunday, November 1, 2009
Swallowing Her Heart, As Per Usual
"Mama said, 'You only fall in love once'". No need to rush things, baby girl. You've got all the time in the world.
Forever. You said, 'Forever'. Remember that?
It's Difficult To Quit Being Happy While You're Still Happy
She didn't understand. Actions speak louder than words; you were just as happy as her.
Her heart had never been happier; but she put the book back on the dusty shelf, right where he wants it. Maybe he'll finish reading it someday. Someday.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)