Tuesday, August 12, 2008

Happiness, or something like it.

Light a cigarette. Stare at my face in the mirror. Six minutes into this song, I can't remember what I was thinking when it started. My eyes look like death. Restart the song. Put out the cigarette.

Throw up, cry down, pass out, not come round till Thursday. Must be in love. Another brain thing. You have so few of the inexplicables I experience. How can I tell you about red when you wander the world shut-eyed? Ears aren't for seeing. Come be with me.

My eyes are full of death. I wonder how much it would cost to break every mirror in this place. You're filling up my chest. I wonder if I can get my hands to stop shaking enough to break anything. My ribs are cracking. I wonder if you will ever be able to love you, or anyone.

You're off in that shell, hibernating with misery and I can't cut through because you won't reach out. I don't know how to end this, because I don't want to.

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