11.06.02 - 6:24

it doesn't matter what color the sky is or what color the grass is or what color the clouds are because everything is grey. i want you to know things and it hurts too much to say them out loud.

the only thing that's beautiful here is the soundtrack. we can cry and scream and tear our hair out while joni mitchell and luna play in the background. we can hide under the table in the dark while the music curls around us like smoke.

i held my breath until the sun went down and i held my breath until the sun came up. i walked three blocks with my eyes on the ground. i didn't see you behind me. i didn't see you in front of me. i didn't want you to see me. i didn't want you to see me like this. you didn't see me. you never do.

all the angry red feelings that clog my throat. the grey doubt and the blue wondering and the black wandering. i guess i lied. the colors of pain are beautiful too.

he said he wanted cabernet and he bought a bottle while she frowned because she didn't like that particular cab. he paid with a twenty and she studied the specks in the tile floor. he left and she thought about leaving but then she decided she wanted a power bar and maybe some orange juice. he didn't see her stay. she didn't see him leave. these things just happen sometimes. halfway through the power bar it turned into sawdust in her mouth and she had to throw it away. she drank the orange juice straight from the carton because you can do these kinds of things when you live all alone. she didn't miss him and he didn't miss her. well, not until later, anyway, when the one glass stayed empty all night. his glass was full and full and full again until it didn't matter that she wasn't there. she brushed her teeth and went to bed. this is what good girls do.

he put on the leaving song before he went to bed because he was thinking about leaving. he got in bed and his feet were cold. he tried to wrap them in the covers but they made his feet clammy which worsened the whole situation. finally he got up and went for a run around the block. he could see the moon through the fog and he could hear the sounds of a city sleeping. he ran slowly, through water. he threw away the parts of himself that he didn't need along the way. by the time he got back home there wasn't anything left but that bloody, beating heart.

previous - next