17 July 2012
I love you but it doesn't seem to be enough. You have my heart pressed between your palms; you either squeeze too hard and stop my blood or let it slip from your weakened grasp. I know you were broken, crushed before, let down and left to rot in your feelings of betrayal and lack of self-worth. I was there; picked you up, dusted you off, started the task of sewing back all the loose threads. In the process you managed to put my pieces back in the right order; you found the missing ones hiding behind a wall of fear and self-hatred and you gently fitted them into place with your soft kisses and softer words. I do not know which of us lost more when you stepped on the train; your jaw set tight to stifle any emotion, sunglasses to hide the single tear that fell. In that moment I broke, shattered into thousands of shards, each one piercing my skin, my heart, my very being. I did not mind being in love with you; you ran and hid at the very thought that you might be falling for me; begrudgingly in love. I'm sure you will cope by drinking yourself into a stupor, spending the next month wrecked so you don't have to think about me. I feel like my life is made of broken bottles, shit and piss. Not enough vodka in the world to numb the edge of this love-paper cut. It stings like a bitch; but I want to tear at the edges of it until there is nothing left of me. For the first time in my life I genuinely want to run away from everything, start over somewhere else because here everything reminds me of you and all the time we shared. It wasn't enough time. Now I have too much and it's all a fucking empty wasteland.
Stream Of Consciousness Pt. 1 • Opuss № I