Because no one can help
I broke it with my heel,
there isn't anything you couldn't do
Right
now you said I never loved you
not the way I said
Not without that thing, that thing
what is that thing
What is it about you
that teases my senses
Begs me to taste you, smell you, touch this, and kiss that.
You and I started small with a hand in hand
the recognition of something
missing
of something
we wanted came late
you didn't think it was so true
I tried to say it feels true,
that's not a lie
What does it mean to give it
all
To say goodbye
and walk away
There's something calling
both ways
The branch never felt so far away.
and it won't bend down for me to climb.
I have to stretch and reach, my words will not
The black and white of time never obeyed me
maybe not anyone, though some still believe
I don't know what it is
except that morning I opened the window and let in the air
and now there's no stopping it.
I'm in so many things you were not patient for
how could you be with
that dirty little marred me
I don't know the difference between love and in love.
I know when I feel it. There are things I love and there are things I am in love with. There are people and places I love and I am in love with. Sometimes I believe in love at first sight. It's not only for lovers. They are not always separate, there is overlap and there are things that can never be classified. A label doesn't matter. A feeling has truth in it. But it's not always at the root of it.
I want too much. I want it all.
I want to be honest with everyone and have that be okay. I don't lie, but hold back for self-preservation. There's always someone to save. Often it's me. Honesty, that's for me too. Even if I say it's for others. I am not so good at keeping my own secrets. Everyone else's are safe. But my own slip their way out. Gentle coaxing should do it. And if not. I will probably accidently say it in a hurricane of words without knowing I've said it until it's too late.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
4 comments:
i almost have it in me to respond to this blog with another blog.. but i'm going to save it until morning.
at least let me say this - honesty is a fluid thing, it blows on shore, evaporates, gets swept out to sea again then down it pores, and in it blows a fog of uncertainties and new feelings and things. every love is made from scratch, in loves and plain loves, the webs they weave are untraceable - how could we track the things we love, back to a root or even tilled earth, before then, what makes a Love? what habit formed that once was preached, who thought of it, of love and how did it end up in our laps as truth.
i know that the only honesty we're responsible for is our own - and seems to me you've got a pretty swell handle on that one. nicely done. does that mean you're a maker? i think so
ok ok, it's funny though because i actually do think there are the roots to things, and that with some investigation we can actually find when and where every habit once was born.. like the sickness thing - you can trace it back even to a sneeze, to the exact moment of contraction you wanted to. I think the same goes with love, its just in no way one as simple a path. it has a lot to do with life prior to an individual we say we "love", and there are so many clues - but with work I bet we can really discover every last original notion of love we once thought inherent about ourselves. right? we are cognitive creatures, blank slates at first. so what is love? something we've been taught or learned - something having to do with dependency, something that once we had more often, then lost.. when was that? maybe as children. with family. i still have dreams about my childhood home. sucks, because I want to be only an object with total control over any emotional response. but then you dream about what you loved as a child, out of your control. how can you trace back those roots? they're a little skinny and frayed so deep, that's an archaeology project from hell really..anyway i'm going off a bit
i totally didn't go bowling. i'm sorry, my heart is too. dependency is a sickness, an addiction - i really dig that quote. seriously seriously.
i won't flake on you next time. i ended up working and being exhausted instead = The Darjeeling Limited. well goodnight.
the blue sweatshirt imperialist is all over the internets.
do you dare disturb your universe?
i hope i type this word verification thing correctly. i've gotten a lot dumber since 2004.
Post a Comment