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Pulmonary Archery 9:49 p.m. 2005-02-14 In exchange for your conspiracy... All of this is getting old. I never claimed to be someone who would wait around for you but its nice to know i have the option. The last man standing is a joke in spite of.... And all the things i wanted to be are true, i wanted to be tragic and charming and i wanted to be able to give away the girl for her own good. I wanted to be honest and open and alluring... tell me, am i? Do things make sense to you, and how do you see me? Paint me a portrait with your eyes closed, paint me from the heart and by memory, make the colors match the way you feel and let me see your perception. Etch this memory in the stars with your fingers and rearrange the stratus in return for something we could call beautiful. WHen you look up at the night sky, why do you insist on making this harder. No matter what you say I promise to listen, and I promise not to take it to heart. "you had the best damn sunday dress at the end of the world." Scatter these petals across the floor and across her heart. Crimson stain on the pale flesh uninterrupted by fear or anxiety. Display your words like honesty at the end of it all to proclaim that the sun will rise as your eyes look up to meet mine. Promise me that we'll have a picture perfect ending. Splay your fingers across my chest in a gesture of tenderness and possession. We can't stop now, now that all of this has started. And I can still remember the way you looked, eyes wide and uncertain full of shame at the things you did. I can picture the hem of your dress in the dirt, purity tainted. I remember the ribbons in your hair and the way the sun hit your hair and the snow all around. It was cold and we were lonely together and the feet between us were miles to the touch and you were so damn far away. I will not hold something up to you in hopes of a smile when i remember the pain in your eyes as you said goodbye. Way out past the water there is someone waiting for me with arms open wide and all the time in the world. Somewhere past that horizon there is hope waiting for me, and i am waiting for hope. Someday she will say that the tears are ok and that I will get better. Someday i'll see her face and know that it was meant to be. So what if i'm repetitive and whiny? You fucking love these words and right now you're pining away thinking of all the things you've been missing. back & forth |