You're pushing me back
But I pass right through you
I'm slippin' through your cracks
I wanna get close to you
But you just won't let me in
You're pullin' away
So my hands can't touch you
So you can't feel my pain
And there's no secrets
Between you and yesterday

I was lying on the floor, face down, breathing slowly in and out through the soft carpet fibers. I wasn't more than six or seven feet away from the computer, and the speakers were still humming their sweet songs of summer to me as I lie there, alone. The house was empty, empty enough to hear the pulses of the music echoing off the walls.
The plasticy smell of carpeting filled my lungs slowly, in and out. So repetitive. It was so repetitive I wished silently in that moment, for it to stop. And as soon as the tight clenching in my stomach grew tighter, one after another, tears fell from the corners of my eyes and collected in small pools of moisture.
I felt them leave me, and hesistated. Jumped a little, even.
But no one was home, it's okay. I forced myself to let them leave me.
Those tiny drops of liquid that belong to me, not to be seen or shown to anyone, I let them go. I let them seep into the carpet, and my body followed.

Then I imagined what it would be like. A hand across my waist. Maybe a whisper in my ear.

To be loved. Not to be loved when it was convienient. To be loved like this. like in the movies. Or even what it would be like to love. To put all of my heart and love. Love the imperfections.

Then I remembed how it's not true. and how it should be true. There are so many who deserve for it to be true.

random blog-reader...
what lovely writing what poignant images
» Zanzibar on 2004-07-14 09:55:48

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