Nothing we tried would work, all the words we said and couldn't take back did there worse, created the damage we couldn't fix. we said things that tore our hearts in half, stated comments that left us in pieces; shattered emotions, like a puzzle impossible to reassamble. No picture to guide us in recovering the lost picture of our once great romance. No way to return into our lovely perfection we had during our honeymoon early days. Oh God, why can't You just be humble for once and help me find humility in the comfortness in being okay in my own ugly skin?
Found peace in the oddest of places, it wasn't where I ever imagined it'd be. It didn't come in the shape of a womans tender touch, or softly placed kiss on my tired lips. No, hell, it wasn't even in a bottle or the back of a bible- the pieces came together in a flash, after rereading an elemantry journal of mine I found comfort in knowing that it was always like this. That it's not just a fade I picked up and couldn't shake, like a terrible habit of mine. No, I've always been aimlessly searching for the serenity others seemed to find easily in there infancy. But even as an adult, I see no life worth living. Having this dream get ruined each time I wake causes a desire for insomnia.
So I guess it boils down that sooner than later it'll simply be, "leave me alone," instead of, "hi, how was your day my dear?" Cause even the best loved ones turn to hate edventually. Their stories just tend to become redundant. Nothing new in the repetition of the daily routines of work and boredom. Even God has a way of turning faith into disbelief.
Matter of factly, today I decided I am going nowhere fast and it is for the best. Because each time I try to speak the truth I am feeling, it's misinterperted for the worst. She turns my thoughts into designs at picking fights. My romantic fallacy becomes nothing for her but a dreaded maladay, like when I speak, "what is it now? when will he tire of these compliments?" But here is where my speech becomes a slur, those days at two am, when we're drunk on street corner- dancing under street lights, speaking of could be's; demanding and wishing for the better things life has to offer.
I wish I could become a better liar but i've learned first hand that honesty is the best way to keep a relationship from sinking into denial and distrust; so anyone can see that this, everything I've ever written is about a girl. All my venomly laced metaphors condemning that whore who could never see straight through her blood shot eyes at the reality right there for the taking. Got the hounds of hell at my heels, and no time will heal this fear. Without her laughter, I'll never be, I'm afraid to say, be normal again.
I grew accustomed to falling flat on my face for all my audience to see, thought it was a secret; that no one noticed my failure. It wasn't til almost a month of soberity that I seen in a mirror all the faces reflecting back at me with mocked laughter. The most ironic thing of all these tragic relasitions is it took a homeless man with no teeth to pick me up and help steady my balance, whisper in my ear, "my friend, i think you should smile once in a while."
So i put the needle down, and didn't touch a clutch for as long as I could remember but I keep close to mind, that I am not much for math. One day, two days, one minute, two seconds, it's all the same, in my mind. The fictional damsel in my head, I named addiction, kept whispering, 'I miss you; why don't you visit any longer? Don't you find me attractive any longer?" And it takes all my ability not to linger in entertaining that thought of slipping back down that slide of easy solution.
But then I realised again I am now a grown up, and I should be able to remember her name the morning after, not just her hair colour. The unknown of all things I know is amazing, almost enough to fill a library with its own section of misery.
There isn't magic in the break down, I got poison in myblood- right from birth. Does nothing but cause me to fall down once or twice in the middle of day light. Right in the middle of being happy and content with all that's great, i suddenly get obsessed with the what if's this is all there is? I'm all dressed up with no where to go, forever?
But my daydreams always leave me melancholy; living ain't good but it can't be that bad, compared to the comparason, it's okay to be destined that I'll be alone; forever seeing smudges on mirrors, reminding me of the man i once was. That's why i write in rhyme, not much for being on time, but I try so hard every day to change the way i live but I am unable to turn back time. Can't erase the things I did, the things I've done, but i can from now on do the best for every moment I get a choice in what to do. so for you girl, I'd change the world, I'd change everything that ever was.
However, the digital revolution has made it impossible for us to even attempt a lie about our childhood crushes. i am invisible in every sense of importance because the zero's and one's calculated from my marketing studies have companies ignoring the importance of anything I purchase; for all i want is love and romance. Never have I touched anything resembling gold, except her blonde hair, that glistened in the sun one afternoon. But it must have been a fairy tale, cause she had no gown- just a paper bag for a dress, no castle for us to share.
I must force myself to put these thoughts to paper, cause my thoughts are always back and forth between positive and negative. If it was up to me, i wouldn't live at all- I guess, i'd just lay down and be one with the ground. Cause if i said what was on my mind, I'd be a mute. Because as far as i can tell all my thoughts are ficticious at best, all my longings end me desiring a female who doesn't want to love me but can at least understand why I don't seee the world and its beautiful colour. I only see a glance at everything possible, i only taste a fraction of the failure all will be given the chance.
Everything she does makes me want to cry. Each word she says leaves me feeling immobile, like I could be a statue in a park for eternity. She has such profound thoughts, it leaves me spellbound. Never met a girl like her, never met a soul who could express love so elegantly. Usually in every story I'm told i find holes in the plots glory, leaving me feeling guilty for attempting to perfect everyones failures, yet ignoring mine.
That two step I had fell in love with was a slow dance, chemicals ate my intentions but they never complained that i had two left feet nor that I tangoed til the early mornings sunlight.
Unfortunatly for me, I can't find balance in life; when i'm miserable I want to be dead and when i'm in love i wish i was never born for it's to great a feeling. The sweeter i grow, the more distant I become; no matter how many fresh starts I get, it's always the same ending to me. Beautiful woman saying, "maybe some other time; right now I like another boy, right now you're just a child- you're great and all, don't get me wrong, it's just, it's me not you, don't take it personal."
It's hard to not take these lines to heart, when all i've ever heard is humour for the reasons why I'd make a great man one day, to someone, just not now, or for her.
But despite the fact i spent an eternal life time trying to destroy the worlds beauty by draining the colour from my face, love from my life, I find a reason to forgive; a chance to at least be me, to be me, happy and free 'cos now i don't wear cement boots, while dancing alone, flat footed, on a glass floor hovering over a tank of swimming sharks.
Lost in thought I could rant forever about all my failures and potentials; love and hate but who gots the time to go over this in detail? I doubt a souls even made it this far, to the near end of this journey. This journal entry might as well be written in a foriegn language, no one will bother trying to decypher my attempt to belong with someone who loves me for me and I for them.
Cause for once I am breathing just to breathe, living just to live; existing just to be here for the chance at trying to catch something other than a miserable hatered for a gorgeous trick that is life.
No comments:
Post a Comment