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You're in the cage with the ocelots. |
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January is a fresh start. Supposedly. But. January is just another month, Another month for me to ******** up. Just like the rest. It's another month for me to crawl back to you. Beg you to stay. And Tell you I'm sorry.
I could tell you I'm sorry a million times. And at a million and one you'd say the same thing. "You don't mean it, and you don't love me, so don't call me darling."
You've trampled a thousand enemies under those feet. Call me, One thousand and one.
You told me if you love something let it go set it free. I let you go, i set you free. You never came back. You never did teach me how to make pancakes. The right way.
You told me not to keep you locked up. You had me convinced that letting you go was a good idea.
That you'd be back.
That you'd be here to dry my tears. You called them diamonds, remember?
"A womans tears are like precious jewels, and I should treat them as such." You said that.
Don't you remember?
Where are you now? Because you've left me here crying and I dont know what to do.
And remember when you called me names? You never used your hands on me, but you didn't have to. Your voice was harsh, and cold. Like I imagine your fingers would have been.
Your hands, like birds, keep flying away from me. Slipping through the cracks in my fingers. Like sand.
It's not going to be Clumsy hands in a dark room anymore. No more kisses here, here, and here..
We know how the light works. We know where the sound comes from.
I'm sorry. I know how it works. The world is no longer mysterious.
"At night I stretched my arms across him, rivers of blood, the dark woods,singing with all my skin and bone, Please keep him safe. Let him lay his head on my chest and we will be like sailors, swimming in the sound of it, dashed to pieces. Makes a cathedral, him pressing against me, his lips at my neck, and yes, I do believe his mouth is heaven, his kisses falling over me like stars. Names of heat and names of light, names of collision in the dark, on the side of the bus, in the bark of the tree, in ballpoint pen on jeans and hands and the backs of matchbooks that then get lost. Your name, like detergent in the washing machine. Your name, like two X's like punched-in eyes, like a drunk cartoon passed out in the gutter, your name with two X's to mark the spots, to hold the place, to keep the treasure from becoming ever lost,I'm saying your name, in the grocery store, on the bridge at dawn. Imagine a room, a sudden glow. Here is my hand, here is my heart, my throat, my wrist. Here are the illuminated cities at the center of me, which is a lake, which is a well that we can drink from, but i can't go through with it. I just don't want to die anymore."
loverxOfxThexGir · Wed Feb 17, 2010 @ 02:49am · 0 Comments |
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