imagines the french.

March 5, 2012

it was not as much what you said as what you did.
keeping the pieces clean and modern with an element of something gritty.
it was rebellious and beautiful at the same time.
retro silhouettes, shadows cast on me.

this return to grunge.
a brink she would stay on for the ensuing decade or so.
who drove him over the edge?
perhaps it’s where i missed the memo.

when it comes.
the colors and the momentous shift from calm to chaos that happens.
it took me a long time to begin to understand what was wrong, what was needed, what to do.
stay busy, find a way, make a life without you.

easier in one year than in another.
and feelings of guilt and shame.
without a doubt they are unequal.
frustrations are not the same.

and neither are my satisfactions.
compromised, without the compromise.
but to us this looks like a perfect storm.
our cautionary tales of demise.

a wonderful thing.
comes with a certain amount of damage.
i forgive you for not being perfect.

 

-(made from phrases found in various magazines)

Advertisements

11:14pm.

January 25, 2012

I love you, but you love the pain more.
I wish you would open up your eyes and see that this isn’t right.
I wish you would see what this is doing to you.
Ripping you apart, inside and out.
Everyday, I’m afraid to look. I’m afraid to see the piece of work he’s left.
But I know what you need is strength. You need someone to tell.
You secrets have been built up for far too long & this has been the only way to let them out.
The blood lets go of all the lies, the hate, the hurt, the past.
And then you sit there and look at what you’ve done. What he’s done.
And you blame it all on yourself.
No one ever listens. They ask, but they don’t hear.
They don’t understand you like I do.
For years, I’ve watched the sad, tormented soul.
I’ve caught glimpses at the source, and I’ve heard fragments of the truth.
I’ve tried to connect, tried to break in, but the walls are so thick.
You’re used to building them up.
But you’re scared of breaking them down.
For a single second I thought I saw a crack in the wall.
A light of hope, a faint smile, a quiet laugh.
Endless conversation with a mind like yours.
I saw what I’ve been looking for all of these years.
What you’ve been looking for.
But as the day passed, and the grin faded, so did the light.
You were left in the dark again.
Left with the sad, tormented soul.
Left with the weapon.
And you used it well.

“I’ve got too much on my mind”

“Like what?”

“Just everything. For some reason, I feel torn apart by something by idk what it is.”

“I hate that. I get that feeling sometimes.”

“Yea, I didn’t feel like this until after I met her.”

“Damn…”

“Idk what it means.”

“It means that she means something to you. In that short time, she came into your life & changed something. Now you get to figure out how & what.”

It kills me when…

January 23, 2012

the best of people get the worst shit.

It kills me when those people believe it’s what they deserve.

It kills me when nothing I say or do can change their mind.

And it kills me when they’re alright with it.