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What does this mean to you 11:14 p.m. 2004-08-02 it seemed inevitable that i would wind up beneath your window and these poetic phrases would be deconstructed by the curtains as i whispered through that glass. So don't bother trying to explain to me why these colors were purple and blue in place of vibrance and never tell me about the times you swam by the shore with him. Would you tell your friends that i even existed or am i a ghost past the headlights waiting to be forgotten in that book of memories we call our lost dreams and empty realizations of what i actually mean to you never hurt nearly this much before. Why can't you see how you hurt me and why well why can't i just forget you ever meant anything to me. But all of these pictures belong to you and the fire inside that burns past this draped frame and wooden parameters define the lines of the fathers set in blood on the stone walls of this city and you wrecked us all just for the sake of relevance in the grander scheme of a hereafter story about space travel and tyedye history. And who would have thought of this before me a million times over we analyzed the possibilities and i was always winding up on the street corner, broken and introspective in this dirty street light. Revise your history and become the girl you wanted to see in the mirror back when you were twelve before roses and chocolate and heartbreak fault disasters written in red paint on a subway car (in desperation we cry out) and numbly this world keeps on looking at the walls and the subjects reflected in your suicide letter and refuse to believe that there is in fact something wrong with all of this. No more looking in on smiling families through windows sometime past midnight when the clouds are soft and the moon drills holes through this vast silence, no more hope for tomorrow or a white room miracle. I'm through (you'd do your best to listen if you heard a word i said) back & forth |