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September 24, 2010
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If I released you then you'd see
Who it is that you could be
That you're worth more than what I've lead you to believe
That on your own side, the grass is a vibrant green
What was it you thought
Would untie this doubled knot?
It's only fair that you receive,
All the pain that you have brought.
I've watched you cough it up,
Those make-believe shapes of trust
The ones I fed you in your sleep
And turned your gold into rust

I know that you are secretively intelligent.  I know you can work, I've seen you do it.  You do understand that at the rate we've been going I could not fathom losing you, because you are in my heart.  We might be out and about, all over the place, but I know that later you will be the one I'm going home with.  (As if there is an option. As if we have some sort of control over fate.)  I care about you but I also have certain gaurds about you, and those gaurds can determine quite a bit.  That girl you mentioned, she is a best friend.  And so far the only people that I've heard talk shit about others, are people that wallow in it already. You speak words of anger, and atrophy, because you harvest those emotions, as if they were the sought after crop of the century. Overall we are slobs and afterall we always end up inflicting on one another's systems.  You tell me about the way she covered the floor with her clothes, on a regular basis, and then I hear about the way you enjoy putting frogs in the microwave.  Pop!  You are so close to criminally insane.  The way you cut your own arm open at dinner so that you could remove the slowly sizzling detox chip that was supposed to help you stay clean, reinforcers the reasons why you spend odd hours at your mothers place while she drinks herself to sleep.  

I like the head that's on your shoulders though, and I want to see the head that's in your pants. My perceptions of this place, they are wavering, but my perceptions of you remain quite strong and stable. I want to know what you feel like, I am curious now. There is only one way in and only one way out and it is best that I haven't let you in because I'm not sure you'd get out.  We've begun to play this game instead now, yes we've engaged in some sort of playing of the cards.  I am dismayed; you have just pulled the same sultry card that so many have pulled before.  Joker of hearts, so cliche. It seems like you're all the same, and I know that is quite a generic thing to say, but it's the truth.  She was right when she said "of course he's bad news bears; why do you think he's single?", but then if all the good guys are marked by being taken, what is left to be had?  Maybe the clothes that covered the floor really did represent narcissism, or maybe she just didn't give a shit about respecting you or your space. You upset me. You made me feel bad. And I've already dealt with shit like this, so I'm just going to move on and carry on and know that because I didn't sleep with you tonight - I'm going to sleep OK.

Limbs stretched out now, just a little bit, in this crowded room that I am in.  The crack that splits the top of the sky has shifted from 'the way out' to a minor sliver of sunlight.  I don't need to see all of what I don't have.  I live a very capricious lifestyle, always changing without any reason and through that I have come to develop a new sense of rhyme.  I have not made plans to remain rooted in the stance that I now stand in; even my words will change, but not before the old ones begin to change their meanings. Evolving, we are ever-changing.  We will never evolve into something unchangeable.  Unless within the overall scheme of things, something is changing?  
That something did.  It changed, but not in the way that we were expecting it to.  We are born in a way that should be effortless, into a world that should be painless, but neither are either. I see now that time wasted, is time that was spent well with you.  

I hate fearing things like tomorrow, and wishing that somehow you might be a part of my tomorrow but knowing that even if you were, I'd hate it.  I'm lost in crippled stages of sorrow where even if I asked to borrow your time it would not satisfy.  And you think 'whatever, she's drunk, she'll sleep just fine', and I think 'fuck you for thinking that this situation would be alright'.  Two and two come-two-gether; багаж.  I can feel your good side, and carry your bad side; багаж.  Underneath the sheets, его кожа зто лед.  Shatter beside me.  Inside me.  

Can you continue to build me with your bare hands?
Shape me and form me like a castle made of sand?
And before the waves can sweep me away,
Will you trample me down, after you are finished your play?

You're standing in the middle of your own pitfall.  I genuinely felt complete around you, and near you.  I whole heartedly trusted you.  But now I've got to let go of you, while you are lost out there in the water.  I can no longer be your rock. Acting as your fortress was like watching ice melt.  It was the same as how I feel when I see roadkill at 8am, quills and red, and chunks and red. It reminds of the way my 'best-friend' is too fucked up, and I can't help her.  It is the awkward angle at which the leaves fall these days.  It's the sun coming out as the wind blows in a colder-than-shit kind of way. It's minimalistic techno that plays tones of sorrow; and I can relate to it.  It's drinking until 2am and then working at 4am.  It's like staying in to get some things done, and then falling asleep instead.  Like that unfinished project, it is a procrastinated thought.  It's the same feeling I get when I want to hide in my room to meditate but my room is so fucking messy that I can't even see the floor.  It's your random phonecall, that I want to hold on to, but have to go because you called when I was in the middle of something somewhere. It's like eating salt when the tap is broken.  It's like eating salt when you're a slug.  How it feels to wait for you.
:heart:
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