Kill the messenger.
Sunshine hits her, in the way only Clark Gable could accurately describe. The moonlight accents the slopes of her cheeks and every square inch i've imagined my lips visiting. The vacancy sign is there for me to find, until then im stuck with my instincts. How can I trust such a trite concept as my own feelings. They've betrayed me, like Benedict Arnold, except they burned the ship and fled long ago. For everytime ive been hurt, and sometimes just because they could. I need to fill out one of those contractual obligations to not get fucked with again, so what ive been keeping inside can now be let out without worry. No one violates a contract.
It's morning, and im waking up without a warm body to clasp onto. 98.6 degrees less to thermally warm these hollow sheets. It's going to be that way for a while, I think. Oh but how much I would give for a night without such cold, where sweat reigns and desheveled hair shares the throne. It's said that everyone has an obstacle in life, why does mine include finding someone to share my life with. I'm so young with visions of grandeur and desires equally as lavish... But it cant just be anyone though.
No, I cant comprimise. And i'll be sending the rain your way. Because its time for me to shine. And we cant all have our dreams come true. Then they wouldnt be dreams, but just another checklist to fulfill on our way to get gas. Why couldnt my visions be full of something like a balloon, those are easy to find. Instead im slipping into you, quickly and with reckless abandon. I cant control the flood, and I really dont want to. With every water droplet reflecting your eyes so crisp like the summer and the wind echoing your scent so sweet like autumn afternoons. I think I'll take the rain back my way. And learn to deal.
Its what we all have to do in the end, anyway.
You should be a writer. Screw philosophy. Writers ask why and then they come up with endings and alternate endings and sequels and works of matter-of-fact art.
ReplyDelete:)
By the way, your entry reminds me of this song:
the world it shows me up
my clothes they show me up
I never knew this before
my finest hour that I've ever known
was finding a pound on the underground
and my words came stumbling out
then I went tumbling out
I've never been hit before
and the finest hour that I've ever known
was finding a pound on the underground
and I'll keep hoping you are the same as me
and I'll send you letters
and come to your house for tea
we are who we are what do the others know?
but poetry is not for me
so show me the way to go home
and the words came stumbling out of my mouth
and I went tumbling out
but I'll keep hoping you are the same as me
and I'll send you letters and
come to your house for tea
we are who we are what do the others know?
but poetry is not for me
so show me the way to go
oh, I'm going home
but I'll keep hoping you are the only one
yes and I'll send you letters
wouldn't it be such fun?
we are who we are
whatever the others say
but poetry is not for me
& much as I'd like to stay
oh I just want to go home
you're you're you're too young
should've been you you're you're too young
it should've been you too, you're too, you're too young
it should've been you you you're too young
you should've been safer saner
bribed the judge and then sat down
ooh you're you're you're too young
That was amazing, very...well shit, I dunno. I loved it though.
ReplyDeleteLoved this bit, maybe cause I felt I could relate: "It's morning, and im waking up without a warm body to clasp onto. 98.6 degrees less to thermally warm these hollow sheets. It's going to be that way for a while, I think. Oh but how much I would give for a night without such cold, where sweat reigns and desheveled hair shares the throne. It's said that everyone has an obstacle in life, why does mine include finding someone to share my life with. I'm so young with visions of grandeur and desires equally as lavish... But it cant just be anyone though."
Very nice MRS