|
SubscriptionsSites I Read
|
|
|
|
| i don't make sense anymore. my thoughts are not structured, orderly. if i knew what to say, i would write it. if i could decipher my own feelings, i would have something to feel. it's more than complicated to explain the complication. nothing is more frustrating. | | |
| i don't know if you've died or vanished, changed or morphed. but the woman that i grew up with is anywhere but here. father must have been right in leaving because i honestly can't fathom what is so appealing about your company.
nothing's ever good enough. and i'm never good enough.
to favor a child is one thing. to favor a child that has fucked you over, spent your money, done illegal drugs, and defaced your vehicles...is something entirely different.
if you hate violence so much, why are you just like him? why do you spit when you talk and why do you put your hands on me?
i will never understand you.
and i no longer care to. | | |
| The sky was a Wintery dark. It was this time of night that I would see you at all through the haze. With that blanket of dusk that blinded me, I was safe.
I took you to a park that I spent endless nights at before as a child. Watching and following some boy like he was all there is, anywhere to me. And we swung on the swingset just like those children we used to be except you were motionless and I was alive. The cold wind hit my face and bit at my cheeks but I didn't care how I looked when it was over. All I cared about was your expressions. Something was sad in them.
But you told me you were leaving and that you'd be home soon. Home soon? From where? From her? I couldn't believe any of it. I guess I just didn't want to.
But when I wanted to call you on the weekends, I didn't. I knew you were there, drugged up with a whore. That's all it was, and it was more than enough to kill me. | | |
| I always thought you were the smartest guy I had ever met. But really, you're just a hippie drug addict. | | |
| i tried to write you a love note. this is what came out. I used to wear this bottle cap strung onto a chain, around my neck. This cap came from a bottle that you so addictively chugged in my bedroom. Nothing could have prepared me for that night. There was nothing that could have warned me of your fists that pounded into my arms and legs. Nothing that would have kept your hands from choking me.
It was on days that you upset me, days that you had done something wrong, that I would wear this necklace. It was a reminder to put up my walls; to keep you at bay. I don't think you ever really understood it's purpose and I eventually threw it away. Said I didn't need it anymore.
If I still had it, today would be one of those days. | | |
|
