Friday, June 5, 2009

this is not the time or place...

for missing the feeling of being held tight in your arms. of being close. you being near. of sleeping in. your sitting next to me. how 'bout i win the lottery, or even work lots of overtime and i surprise you with a trip to tokyo? you need one. keep your miles, boy.
what was it we were watching that sunny morning? one of those antique show things. C means it was made in 1927. or was it 28? so what did they do before that? how do they know all these things? and by the way, i like your tea. and you've got mad frozen pizza skills. hahaha. the wine went to my head, but it was nice. i'm sorry i wasn't as hungry as i thought i was. i was jet-lagged and really just wanted to skip straight to dessert. not the chocolate cake i was planning on getting for you. your kisses completely spoil the appetite. i miss those too. and how i anticipated your beard to scratch. but it was soft, actually. and careless. and not trying so hard like the boys in fleet foxes. and then there's that feeling that came over me, that i failed to mention. the "oh-please-i-hope-he-holds-on-tight-i'm-going-to-fall-over" kinda feeling. and i found myself thinking things like
"oh girl, don't forget to breathe..."
so i'd inhale slow. and my lungs become full of chanel allure from the bottle with the black top... the way you wear it so it's really all your own somehow. whatever the case, it's not helping my ability to focus or stand up straight. i'm bambi on ice and how embarrassing, there's no wine to blame. just you. though i'm not sure you mind. so i close my eyes for a second and your voice drifts through...pause. still. your hands steady my curious face to return to that light. and your camera lense eyes captured me with a silent click. i love the way you see me. you always make me feel beautiful. in any light...
but now they're off. all the lights are off. they come on everytime your name shows up. it doesn't. everything's heavy and bleary and...
i promise i don't mind missing you because we do what we do til next time.
but my chest is gripped by icy fear that there won't be a next time. it screams obscenities at my sorry replaceable face now covered in tears of remorse. "i just keep sayin sorry, the room spinnin' and starry"
i never wanted to miss YOU like this.
even music seems tasteless.
or maybe it's all a mistake...maybe i'm being ridiculous?
i'm sorry. i'll wait...
it's all my fault and this...
this is not the time or place.

"Near a sea of pianos, there were waves of chords that crashed against the shore in one huge and useless roar. And there were girls bringing water, like a dream they came to cool the fever of my brain, and soothe my burning throat. And they made me a necklace, hanging beads of sweat on a string of my regrets, and placed it round my neck and they were singing, “Don’t you do what you’ve wanted to. Yeah, don’t destroy yourself like those cowards do and maybe the sun keeps coming up because it has gotten used to you and your constant need for proof.” -bright eyes.

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