I’ve been thinking, We’re dipping into dirty water, Calling it quits, Where you’re pouring, Baby, it’s not going to work…
To the back of her shadow, Its black, its running away, its black, It just discovered rock n roll, Good and evil standing on one shoulder, Baby, it’s not going to work…
For a diamond ring, even when everything could compromise everything, you left an envelope. Questions in blue ink, periods and smudges, names of faraway places and the words I would say to you on good Tuesdays. I repeat the letters, I look out of the window, to squeeze the vocabulary back into your lips. What made you beautiful now just turned sour. For a diamond ring, even when everything could compromise feelings, you left with my nerves. You took down the pretty pictures, all the handwritten love on the fridge, your cosmetics and a Tupperware of hundreds in fifties. I made guesses, I look out of the window, to shoot you down with fancy blunt bullets. For a diamond ring, you’d do these for a diamond ring I’m sure I couldn’t have afforded.
Do you choose? Do you try hard to try? Do you sleep more to the left even when there’s no one beside? Do you smile
then realize?
Do you choose? Do you make belief and liquidate? Do you make the same wishes as mine? Do you write down
then erase?
Do you choose?
Sad hues of blue. I’ve warned you of the mystery versus misery. The murder and balance. Regardless, you were never on my side. How could you feel this warm?
This house used to smell of your perfume. In the living room, it follows to my bed, it stains the creases on the pillowcase. Everything was in pairs. I never had to tie my shoes. I never had to. Rubbing out, pleading, blaring in between sleep. Bad aches to the head, sunburns on my heart. Erasing love easily, but still, good memories keep haunting me. Regardless, you were never on my side. How could it feel this wrong?
I see pins around your hair, I try to understand, I try to stay awake knowing that I won’t think of you. Sometimes I run to the back, sometimes this turn; it doesn’t feel right. It’s too fast to get away, it feels good like a drive. In my Sunday’s shirt, soaked around the shoulder with your tears. Word by word, you’ve grown me into this: the heartless romantic cocoon. Always was a better word, you put it in a can. You’re dialing empty numbers, you tried the lack of convenience, you can panic; its okay.
Je suis tellement près. Nous devrions nous réunir pour le déjeuner. Vous devriez sourire ainsi je pourrais vous tirer vers le haut dans mon avion. Je suis tellement près, vous aussi. Tellement près, nous pourrions nous serrer la main. Je suis sûr que vous n’avez pas su que je suis tellement près. Bien, je suis.
still holding, so carry on, love. I’m figured out. I need each night, to better some days. I could spend the dates dissolving good solace from good friends and good faith. have you been seen? you told me you’re tired and trying, you told me you wanted to cover my eyes. someday we’ll turn into chocolate that I would’ve loved to eat…
21, the day I most remembered. 21 would be the age we’re flipping pages. 21, some kind of love. 21, between words and expressions. 21 and wayworn flout, or you could just lie down on the carpet. 21, we could just kiss and submit. 21 will preponderate those gorgeous eyes with my cloying verbiage. 21 situations and affairs, but it’ll never make any sense at all. 21, I can’t blame you anymore. 21, you could never own it. 21 and moving, wish for something aesthete. 21 would be the moments you’re making within you and me. 21, I’m drawing the curtains.
20 and a day to 21, I’m telling you I remembered.
