| Mood:- |
Flailing, like a fish |
| Music:- |
The Walkmen - French Vacation |
Red, white, orange, yellow... the lights blinked like eyes as the shadows of night passed over them. Staring through the window of a car filled with headaches and fatigue, I watched it all pass by... the city, the highway, the endless galloping cars. And I realized how much I wanted to be out there, rather than trapped in something fast and microscopic. To inhale the open air with my nostrils, to breathe the trees, the grass, the roads, the concrete, the gaudy neon signs of businesses, restaurants and hotels. To run until the sidewalk disappears from under my feet, until I fall into the velvety carpet of midnight blue, until I step on the stars.
I want to disappear. I'll throw myself out the door. Whether you follow me or not, I have these memories. They will keep me safe.
"I love you like a thousand white horses with wings."
So many conversations that never take place, so many motions left undone, words unsaid, all forgotten in yesterdays. I could reach out and touch you, I could let my voice caress your ears with compliments, with the songs my mind sings to me in the silence that drags on, with the feelings that cause the tumult in my stomach. I could tell you. I could burden you with it, all of it. Why not?
I don't know.
That part of me, the part that gives, that throws secrecy to the wolves... that part never works.
And the space that consumes what never comes into existence makes me think harder, until my brain hurts, until it's painful to hold everything in. But something doesn't let me go, something makes me stop myself. I try and try, but often nothing comes of it. I look, I listen, and my eyelids tremble and my lips move to speak, but my tongue is stuck, my teeth are numb, my throat dehydrated and my face just won't work. The expressions it makes aren't mine; don't tell me to smile. Please, read my eyes, read them and know that I am this way.
What I desire more than anything? Freedom from this, from walls and ceilings and floors. Freedom from a body that is too clumsy and too frail to possess the organs pulsing inside. I want to live like my brain tells me to. I want to be myself, for you.
"Where'd you go?" |
