| k. so this post is a mix of things, poetry, lyrics, a quote from a book I read. maybe some other stuff. comments are appreciated.=]
"There will be other lives. There will be other lives for nervous boys with sweaty palms, for bittersweet fumblings in the backseats of cars, for caps and gowns in royal blue and crimson, for mothers clasping pretty pearl necklaces around daughters' unlined necks, for your full name read aloud in an auditorium, for brand new suitcases transporting you to strange new people in strange new lands. And there will be other lives for unpaid debts, for one-nightstands, for Prague and Paris, for painful shoes with ponty toes, for indecisions and revisions. And there will be other lives for fathers walking daughters down aisles. And there will be other lives for sweet babies with skin like milk. And there will be other lives for a man you don't recognize, for a face in the mirror that is no longer yours, for the funerals of intimates, for shrinking, for teeth that falls out, for hair on your chin, for forgetting everything. Everything. Oh, there are so many lives. How we wish we could live them concurrently instead of one by one by one. We could detect the best pieces of each, stringing them together like a strand of pearls. But that's not how it works. A human life is a beautiful mess."
-Elsewhere.
To Eva Descending the Stair
Clocks cry: stillness is a lie, my dear; The wheels revolve, the universe keeps running. (Proud you halt upon the spiral stair.)
The asteroids turn traitor in the air, And planets plot with old elliptic cunning; Clocks cry: stillness is a lie, my dear.
Red the unraveled rose sings in your hair: Blood springs eternal if the heart be burning. (Proud you halt upon the spiral stair.)
Cryptic stars wind up the atmosphere, In solar schemes the titled suns go turning; Clocks cry: stillness is a lie, my dear.
Loud the immortal nightingales declare: Love flames forever if the flesh be yearning. (Proud you halt upon the spiral stair.)
Circling zodiac compels the year. Intolerant beauty never will be learning. Clocks cry: stillness is a lie, my dear. (Proud you halt upon the spiral stair.)
-My favorite poem, by Sylvia Plath.
counting down all the hours i've spent here d ro w i n g in all of your l i e s dear, i wish i could have been warned.
There was a terrible storm And you were wearing all our coats In the back of this car I feel like I have traveled nowhere We buried in the snow I kept warm inside of your clothes You swore that nothing would ever change The way we were right then It was a colder at night Bought a hotel I I thought you would never Find another Love again.
Underwater I wrote drowning I use to be such good good swimmer But for now my head is in the clouds I'm a silly love song A twisted elbow crush song I would go to jail with only boys Just to prove I was as tough as you And when I get out for good behavior I'll be writing love songs Silly banging knee songs I'm a car crash But I have to get up And every morning it's a cleanup All I need is time, time to love you.
Who shot the bullet That killed the air tonight? Without a thought, without a reason Take a gun called hate Up against your heart &PULL THE TRIGGER.
Hours pass into minutes, kissing the seconds away, and days seem to melt, just like your classic summers.
Trading air once more from the start I can open up a thousand paper cuts People hear what they want to hear but they wont change a thing no they wont change a thing.
[ BUT NOTHING WAS LOUDER THAN ] The sound of my steps to your door.
And there's something for the pain Something to make this guilt go away You're forgetting us You're forgetting everything And I wanna hate you for my mistakes I hate you for everything This is goodbye, this is always.
But your beauty is something of a catastrophe...
It's cold outside; JUST LIKE FATE, It's cold right here; WHERE IS YOUR HEART? Someone get me out of here; ALIVE.
Nothing is sweeter than realizing those dreams ...Are false ideas of love.
If I could act like this was my real life and not some cage where I've been placed, then, I could tell you the truth like I used to and not be afraid of sounding fake. Now all that anyone is listening for are the mistakes. In a house, by myself, I hear the ice start to melt and watch rooftops weep for the sunlight. And I know what must change. Fuck my face. Fuck my name. They are brief and false advertisements for a soul I don't have. Something true I have lacked and spent my whole life trying to make up for.
This letter's gone too far & I CAN'T LET YOU GO. |