I actually loathe you.
20th January 12
Get over yourself. You self absorbed knobber.
To bring something to life to just abandon it.
To make it breathe, to give it depth, soul, meaning.
To rip it away.
Throw it down.
Tear it from it’s insides.
To bring out the true being in a person, the only thing that was ever real. To walk away.
To not be aware but be ever knowing.
I dreamt you were on our coach. I dreamt you were on our adventure to their wedding. You were my friend for the journey, speaking in the mother tongue to my new friend next to me. You sat on and broke her cigarettes.
I picked up your wallet. Petite but full of memories, cards, cracked plastic wallets. In awe of the beautiful script written on every photo and business card and the overall smell of the broken leather. A memory for each.
We moved into the house after it was over for the reception. You told me you loved me, we made a connection. You walked away leaving me confused. A friend returned, they gave me a gift so we could always see each other. He knew what was felt. A camera that recorded and stored great & small events, automatically shared with the wearer of the other necklace.
You came back, astounded and so greatful they were happy for you. Then I met your Parents. They weren’t though. They were guardians of your life. Your Parents and family downstairs enjoying the festivities.
We lay naked in the room, the large painted white door shut but not locked.
We were clothed and you were leaving, I followed to the other room as I didn’t know why. I was panicking and had the lump in my throat, trying to scream your name but knowing I couldn’t. They would hear!
Your Sister was there, flowing blonde hair and angry faced. You had given me one of her tshirts in error. You don’t have a sister, but she was there.
I ran. I panicked. I fled into the room we were in and hid behind the pile of bedding. Your Guardians said it would be alright, it wouldn’t make a difference. But I knew it was the end.
All I can do is cry, I won’t know that. I won’t know the smell, the feel of your skin, the connection that may be genuine.
The warmth of your crazy against mine, daemons intertwined.
You just ripped my heart out and I can’t tell anyone. I’m sitting in my car in the dark screaming as tears are rolling down my cheeks and my knuckles are raw from hitting the dashboard.
You only get one chance to be spectacular in death.
He feels the same. He cannot change. If this were another world, another time, another passing moment.
He will not break his vow for me. For her, but not for me.
I don’t want him to. He doesn’t comprehend this.
I just want him in my life and satisfied I am not lonely in my thoughts.
Falling asleep physically wrapped in the problem of your female best friend is not making her ‘face up to the guilt’. It is bringing the hate, distrust and nigh on impossibility of having a supportive functioning husband into the heart of your wife. She is not an idiot, no matter how much you would like to believe she is in ignorance. She is foolish, tired maybe, see’s no other option for her life, but not ignorant.
Did you never call? I waited for your call These rivers of suggestion are driving me away The trees will bend, the cities wash away The city on the river there is a girl without a dream
I’m sorry.
Eastern to Mountain, third party call, the lines are down The wise man built his words upon the rocks But Im not bound to follow suit The trees will bend, the conversations dimmed Go build yourself another home, this choice isnt mine
Did you never call? I waited for your call These rivers of suggestion are driving me away The ocean sang, the conversations dimmed Go build yourself another dream, this choice isnt mine
I’m sorry.
