Writing backwards on a graded test,
writing this every day of my life.
Waiting for a day when I would want to write anything down again,
anything besides a tale of a city of fallen wooden bridges.
12:01 and I get home and get to write.
It's been gone and I hear 50 and Shady while drinking a Budweiser can...
cuz I can
and
It only matters that I am here
on my own but not.
I'm all over everywhere just to try to find some peace,
but it's too strong a piece of...
maybe I just might want and need a piece but parallel is my specialty.
running alongside the truth till it breaks onto the road like a deer in the lights
and fucks up my car with no remorse.
yeah I get it.
I see how it feels because I've lost people too and we meld in that way.
we fit like LEGOs
like Jenga
like interlocking blocks that can't fall over when pushed.
I've been...overwhelmed.
more love friends hurt joy loss pain emotional overload
in seven small months.
more than I've seen in YEARS.
I hate when they distort what I say just because this is "bizarre shit that people can't handle"
I hate that I say it and then it gets censored
I hate when the words come out wrong.
I hate that another year has passed in this fucked up way.
We sometimes agree and you always made jokes about the 90s,
my favorite songs,
all my sneakers that you stare at in disbelief,
and when we get along its because of that little bit of black lace...REALLY?
That's what it takes?
just...lace?
amazing.
Now I see what matters
we know how it gets shattered and
twisted and ripped...like the lace.
No matter what happens we know what matters,
killing headlights drifting down the mountain while drowning in whiskey.
It was my birthday.
You asked me what I wanted to hear.
I wasn't thinking about music.
I wasn't thinking about streaming fucking mp3s.
I would've loved a compliment.
Instead i say,
Eminem I guess.
I know its like a compensation but truth is,
you don't know me so well.
Months are not years
and years it has been,
since I've had a piece of peace and the ability to embrace
my
self
descended.
After years of blindness I can see it like a bloody knife after a murder.
Some truth peeks out from under the ratty couch cushions.
Behind the baby blues and the "feel for me" look you give me,
I see love.
I really do.
The issue was never not enough love.
It was always so much more.
There is always love in me but not always on the right path.
killer smiles,
comforting hugs,
love was always with me.
But that's it.
That's all there is for us:
love,
looks,
lace,
Bud from a can,
rice and beans
an occasional pizza...
but that's it.
That's it?
Well then I guess I'll say good night.
It was MY birthday and we lived YOUR life.
For a whole day I lost myself in you and I loved it.
But I will never
Ever.
lose
myself
again.
