Sunday, May 26, 2013
Go on. You know you're dying to.
So go on and break my heart. I've been counting down the minutes; I've sipped the sweetened seconds from a broken cup until their aftertaste returned bitterness. I've played that music in a low-lit room alone, again and again, waiting for you to listen to a song that's fallen on battered eardrums, harmonies shifting into minor keys. You're not paying the slightest bit of attention.
To me, this will be an epic tragedy, depicted wonderfully, heart-wrenchingly, by an orchestra, a choir and a troupe of starving actors and artists.
To you, it will be a washed out watercolor at your next garage sale, a steal for fifty cents behind that chest of drawers you kept saying you were going to get rid of because the handles were broken.
Don't worry, I won't say anything. I'm too proud to handle this healthily. I'll shift my silence onto your dislike of meaningful conversations. I'll guess it's because of your abusive childhood.
You'll blame it on my assumptions. We can all just accept it and live this way.
But we don't have to.
To me, this will be an epic tragedy, depicted wonderfully, heart-wrenchingly, by an orchestra, a choir and a troupe of starving actors and artists.
To you, it will be a washed out watercolor at your next garage sale, a steal for fifty cents behind that chest of drawers you kept saying you were going to get rid of because the handles were broken.
Don't worry, I won't say anything. I'm too proud to handle this healthily. I'll shift my silence onto your dislike of meaningful conversations. I'll guess it's because of your abusive childhood.
You'll blame it on my assumptions. We can all just accept it and live this way.
But we don't have to.
Sunday, April 7, 2013
Flayed
What is it about falling apart that makes the words come so quickly?
What is it about laying alone that makes the air ring so loudly?
What is it about a certain song that makes your chest twist up inside?
Have you ever bunched up the pillows against your body and curled up to sleep, pretending it was that person and they were there beside you, because you couldn't sleep if you didn't? Did it make you feel so pathetic, so relieved that you hardly cared? Did you wake up in the morning and reach out to nothing but cotton and cloth? Did the emptiness yawn. Did you feel the earth scream inside you, so loud that you were shocked when your skin escaped unabraded. Did it feel like this?
What is it about laying alone that makes the air ring so loudly?
What is it about a certain song that makes your chest twist up inside?
Have you ever bunched up the pillows against your body and curled up to sleep, pretending it was that person and they were there beside you, because you couldn't sleep if you didn't? Did it make you feel so pathetic, so relieved that you hardly cared? Did you wake up in the morning and reach out to nothing but cotton and cloth? Did the emptiness yawn. Did you feel the earth scream inside you, so loud that you were shocked when your skin escaped unabraded. Did it feel like this?
Wednesday, August 8, 2012
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