Sunday, July 25, 2010

Sorry

Heartbreak.
Heartbreak.
Heartbreak.
Repair.
Reuse.
Break.


Dear J,


Today after 4 months, 18 days, 22 hours, and 46 minutes, I feel upset. There's some stinging in my eyes. But they're probably yours. The tears. I want to cry for you. It's the least I can do. I do love you. Don't hate me for falling. Falling every way. In and out of love. Failing. Around attraction. Around confusion. I keep slipping because it's slippery. But you were a dry plank that kept its place for as long as it could. Stay, wont you? Don't make me hate this. Hate me. 
Because no matter what. I know the pretty stretch will always exist. Those letters will exist. The CD's will. The clothes will. The faint cologne will. The photographs will. 
But most of all.
The feeling will.
And you and I will.


Forgive me J.

Sunday, July 4, 2010

Surreal Sacrifice

She watched as he walked away.
With tears stinging her eyes,
she watched her life shatter into a million glass pieces,
dissolve in thick red and choke.
She watched him walk away.
Paralyzed.

She was in a different place in an instant.
Beauty that was too refined for permanence.
It was like watching the rainfall from a distance.
Through a rose-tinted screen.
The sun diamonds retired at a dramatic moment,
when a thousand rainbows were sketched into quasi-life.
Hazed.

The stream wove its way around the buzzing turquoise,
at the precise moment when his fingers, and his soul, 
wove themselves out of hers. 
But when her 'I love you' got a heartless response.
She was chilled.
Calmly frantic.
Helpless.

You lied.
This way I wont have to. Ever again.
You made me fall in love with you.
You wouldn't have it any other way. You were always stubborn.
He smiled.
Bile rose up to her throat.
She stood up and walked away. 
Her mind a dangerous picture of the tangential confidence,
that she abstractly painted.  
She floated through the wild white.
Almost as a glowing aura.
Soulless.

She collapsed right where she was.
In reality.
Her mind was now living a different dream,
and coercing her body to join it.
It was impossible to function now.
Without mist around the edges.
Without bleeding hands, and scars in the shape of tiny hearts.
Without tears and passion.
Without loud, loud laughter and wet, mud stains.
Without extremes.
Without emotions.
Human.

She wept over his lifeless body.
And over the smooth ink on paper.
Smudged clouds poured over her in midnight blue.
She sat in the middle of it all,
with red swans.
And red tears.
Sucked of every joy.
Paralyzed. Hazed. Helpless. Soulless. Only Human.