Time and what shakespear didn\'t know: sonnett 116
Date: Nov 14th, 2004 11:54:12 pm - Subscribe

Dear Mom(sorry i lied):

you lie not 3 feet from me...a melody...stuck soundly in my heart and in my head..beating in time to the rythm of my heart...coily singing..."are you ok?"...shaking back your hair and smiling...as though you can see right through me...because you see...dear...i am torn...torn between pouring my heart to you like coffee...black and bitter...or keeping my mouth shut and settling for saying nothing more then...yeah...sure...but surely you can't believe me...even you darling can't possess that extreme naveite...look...all i'm trying to say is that i've given everything...but i guess that my silence makes this mean no more then the words that drip across the pulminaries of the transatlantic in his text messages...i've tried to say so much more to you...but somehow my brain and my heart have no common contact without liquor as a translator...and now i'm not even sure if he's truly the issue...or is he more of an excuse...a figure head for fear of stepping into something that you aren't able to prepare for...images of the boy next door still sit...gathering dust in the attics of your mind...maybe i'm making to much of this...but hey if your going to be famous darling...you have to get used to drama...or is it tragedy?...it doesn't matter...your a star...isn't that your wish...i know its mine...
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you only remember what you want to remember....so remember this...
Date: Nov 14th, 2004 11:53:47 pm - Subscribe

I'm sure that the words all came out wrong...i have a history of that...but an object set in emotion stays in emotion...all i could do was stare blankly into the headlight lit stained glass of the darkened church...and when the words had finally stopped falling from my mouth and bouncing across the ash stained dashboard to your seemingly deaf ears confusion became the topic of conversation...you drove silently as i stared out the window at the stars with my seatbelt not on hoping that maybe this car would crash and you would kill me...and just get it over with...and like i said before...i'm sure that my words all came out wrong...but yours never came out at all...and the mixtape's sickly sweet ironic love song only added insult to the sympathy that still stained my lips from your kiss...you are my ice princess...no..rather...you are my ice pupetteer...and i dangle limply..tide tightly... to this frigid artic string that you hold high above your head...and you tell me that i'm a boy and that i would never understand...how do u know this if you never will let me into your head...that you keep hidden behind those dark black bangs...they hang in front of your eyes...and they cover them up so you don't have to see anything...or anyone...but they can still see you...theres a million shooting stars in north carolina... and your my one wish...
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sing it again lorelei and bring me back to R.I.
Date: Nov 14th, 2004 11:53:23 pm - Subscribe

Distance may be death but coming home is being buried alive...i don't know what i wanted to know but i know i couldn't do anything but sit staring coldly at the empty dashboard in front of me....it seemed to stretch 600 miles between us even though we sat only inches apart...you asked if i was crying i found myself quickly lying, "no"..."do you swear to god?" she asked, pressing the question deeper into my pulminaries..."no" was all i could say walking away from everything and swearing to god and the leaves that softly caressed my ankles that i know that things like this happen...and each drop of holy water slowly trickling down my cheek and falling like gabriel on to my thift store shirt of stagnant beer...made my vision blur red with the glow of the eastside stop lights creating a metaphor that even i couldn't ignore...and i sat on the sewer grate that softly trickled its understanding beneath me and listened to the traffic pass around me...i swore that i wouldn't make it to the door and you would come back around the block somehow...atleast just to say goodbye or tell me that i'm an idiot i wouldn't have minded either of the two...but instead i kissed my malboro red and felt the smoke fill the caverns in my lungs and chest where longing used to linger...look...if you don't want my liver just give it back because god knows i could use it...and i don't know what to say to you that i haven't written cryptically between drunken lullabys and cries of empathy... sometimes all i want to do is hold you and hope...but i can't even get that close to you these days...all of this is everything that i never meant to say but i have to....just tell me something that i can hear...i don't care if i don't want to or not anymore..i just want to know if i can pull my liver from your liqour cabinet and put my heart back where it belongs...
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cigarettes help my sickness
Date: Nov 14th, 2004 11:53:02 pm - Subscribe

we live in excess liquor stained memories and lungs abused by cigarettes....nights have begun to run together...they stumble stepping heavily between hangovers and heaven....i am an oracle....i read fortunes face down in keg foam rather then tea leaves...i never really remember everything faces without names and slurred psalms of sailors drowning in their dreams...but isn't that the way i've always wanted it to be...i always wake dead...buried in my bedsheets...and the sun speaks volumes to me as she gently crawls across my head...the writing on my chest is as good as any book that i've read...it helps to put the pieces back together...i have no memories anymore only the kalidescopic slideshow of intoxication...and my dreams are heavy...haunted by the steady glow of headlights behind me.....i am a nomadic alcoholic...every night i lead my caravan from oasis to oasis stoping just long enough to learn the names that don't really matter...and everynight when i return i swear i'll never do it again....and as for you...im still drawn...and ripped at the seams..hoping one day you'll say something to sew me back together..but instead i settle for feeding my addictions and listening to you tell me that you fucking hate me...you know your beautiful when your angry.....that isn't a lie....but i'm torn...because i left my heart at home with a girl who leaves puts flowers in my ear....but do i dare put my hopes on this revolution...because virginia still stands in the way and i don't know what to do...i'd trade you my heart for an answer...but you already have it...the only thing i can say is "eh"
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distance makes the heart....
Date: Nov 14th, 2004 11:52:38 pm - Subscribe

lately i've been haunted by sirens of beautiful design...they come to me nestled between the static on the transatlantic...calling me home to familiar arms that promise to hold me tightly and resesitate that beating of my posioned heart that i keep on my shelf...its nestled tightly between the bottle and the note that you wrote me....you asked me why it was so much more ok when i was there...i don't have an answer to that....some say that distance makes the heart grow fonder....distance makes my heart grow weaker...and i know that some things are better left unsaid but even if i wanted to i wouldn't know how to tell you how much i miss you and the way you laugh and cry and smile even when everything around you is falling apart...add me to that list..i am falling apart....and i'm not sure how i'm going to be able to reach all the pieces without my left arm....do i dare say that i love you?...i don't know but its possible....you can take that however you would like but that is the only emotion that could explain the way i feel right now and every night when i lie awake watching my ceiling pirouette around my head and i think of you and turn and half expect to find you lying next to me with weapons of mass destruction and ice cream...and you don't say anything because words are sometimes wasted on the beauty of a moment....and you are my every moment...
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