we're in the mess hall, and you're feeding off the anger you said your mother provided. and you're sweating and it's dripping and the room is slowly shrinking and it's making everyone in it seem bigger. and i'm wondering to myself if we're going to leave together like we always planned, before strangers cut into our dance. and i'm thinking of how i can be laying next to you and miss you, proof we succumbed to the distance. and sometimes you make me feel like loneliness just can't be real, it's just a dream i sometimes have when you're not close enough around.
but what happened to the perfection, where did it run off to, and can we catch it? i'm not quite sure we're even trying, and i'm just dying to know how you see things in me because i know i don't and i want to. so badly you can single handily remark one sentence and it's utterly refreshing. my hope skyrockets and time stops. and our hapless nature is forgotten for an string of instances that seem longer than any monotonous daily routine we expose ourselves to. and maybe thats where the hope goes. so dense in a couple seconds that we're left with little
we might have exhausted all of the past that we stored, and it got us far but it's running out and i'm scared to death you don't see it so you're not uneasy. so i've been devastated the for a couple months now and i wish we'd set a date to start building because the demolition is over. just waiting on the waste to be hauled off. so the time has come, but we both have to see it, i can't be the only witness. and i can't tell you, you have to realize yourself but i'm standing still as i wait for you to usher in new life. i know i say things i don't mean at you, i just say them faintly because i sometimes mistake my fears as real. it takes my breath away and it seems all we'll ever have is a past, and memories that are stale and can't even be remembered off hand, i have to reach and dig deep and when i pull them up i crash cause i'm so burned out and sad, worried there will never be new ones there. it just reminds me how it used to be on tap, constantly falling right into our laps.
Monday, February 6, 2012
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That was sweet and stunningly beautiful.
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