Saturday, April 26, 2014

Unpeeled, Like a Thread


I keep waiting for my big break, but now I think that maybe I've missed it.

I didn't need to do it.  I didn't want to either.  I had passed the point of desire and hate, and I was moving on to being more weightless and acceptable.  There were no more missed phone calls.  There were a lot more nights out.

We were choice examples.

Maybe the past is forgotten and the flowers are dead, and maybe I wait up too late.  I always was the more sentimental one.  And you think it's childish and juvenile to cling to remnants and pieces, but I never knew how to leave them behind.  I carry them with me wherever I go, picking them up off the floor and placing them in glass cabinets when you're not looking.  I'll always be too attached.

I'm terribly sorry for the things I pray about.  Forgiveness and cheap tickets to concerts I'll never go to.  Headaches and rose petals, heart strings to be untied.

I wish I knew how to get better.

I wish...





1 comment:

  1. This is amazing. This is everything I tried to write about in my post "Dead Flowers", but it makes so much more sense when you say it.

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