April 5, 2014
The smoke billows in my face and I can't see.
It's not actually smoke, you know? It's a metaphor, there is a deeper
meaning.
There is always a deeper meaning.
I grind my teeth together in frustration because I like the way the
tension feels, and I like looking right into her eyes because I like the
way the tension Feels.
Someday, oh someday we will start our lives and I will have to watch your
life in pictures because we won't talk anymore. I already know that we
won't talk anymore.
You know how you go to the city so that you can feel like you are a part
of something different?
You and her and them, they are my city.
Something about the way that you move reminds me of songs that I listened
to last summer. A friendly reminder of the past, a nightmare of the
past.
I feel bad when I pick flowers because I just ruined a beautiful little
life just so i could put it behind my ear and in my hair. Decorating
myself. That's so selfish but I always do it. I pull and tear at its petals
like it's nothing. Why is destruction so easy?
I like the way blankets feel against my bare skin.
Have you ever been told that you have cute freckles? Because you have the
cutest freckles in the world and your freckles make me jealous.
I like the way houses look when they have a lot of knickknacks. When you
look around the room, its like you're reading a child's book and there is
something about children books that bring you home.
My heart hurt the day I saw the cuts under your sleeve. I'm so sorry.
Sometimes, I just want to wonder.
-S.B.
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