Old Prose

the choices that we made dictate what becomes of today. my heart goes out to you, and sometimes there's hope but we both seem to know that it has nowhere else to go. its anybody's guess as to where we'll be in the future, but for now i'll go on pretending and remembering that i should have never loved you.

not because i wish to hate you or that i want to forget you. not because we weren't good or that we weren't happy but because my life is now without you. when you try to cross that threshold again, boundaries are broken and the lock that held old memories becomes undone... leaving me a mess, a wreck, undone.

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Scream it in my face, rip it all to shreds, stand in front of me and devote your words to your voice and let it finally be heard. I'm obviously missing the point, not hearing what you want to be said. Its days like these that I've come to dread. An answer and its question having a face off in the dead center of it all. A problem and its solution acting as polar opposites, pushing away any other possibilities that come to rest. What am I to you now? Do you think about how no one else can fill the impression I left upon your pillow....

You ask what he has that you don't; you proclaim you'd like to slice it all down so you could no longer see the truth; you use your words to hurt me because you feel your actions aren't enough.

I could play a mixed tape for you, leaving the words and music to swirl about your brain, embedding a feeling left within me into your heart. But with air so dense and distance expanding, you stand on one cliff with me on another. Some days that's how I feel we live -- in two separate worlds that occasionally orbit around the other.

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Remember those days spent beneath the blazing sun, and how your skin changed colors due to your fun? The next day reminded you of our last day together, and its existance is literally burned into your body. Smiling seemed so simple and easy, laid across your face like it was always meant to. Let's create a place where it's okay to not let feelings fade, to never move forward, and to hold on to whatever made you happy that one time at that one place you'll always remember. Otherwise it becomes something you want to forget because its love you don't have, and forgetting is always harder to do than we'd like to admit.

Can we stop the world from living in the past? Can we ever forgive the mistakes we wouldn't have made if we knew what we know now? Could it ever just be me and you? Could we just throw out all the rules?

These days I continue to lift the weights and set them back down again. Your soul's measurements are heavier than you'd think, but I wouldn't have it any other way. A broken heart and a memory that refuses to fade make me stronger than you'd ever believe.

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isolated seconds become caught in the web spun by all the tears that have fallen over time, and i stare through you at the sun beginning to sink into the sand. somewhere there is another beginning, but all i can fathom is this one ending.


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bittersweet goodbyes to pass our lonely times with a shiver to the wind before it's all over. it seems so hard now when the wounds are fresh and the tears renewed. but in a few months time, or perhaps a bit longer, the wounds will be scars, a story and lesson to live by.

you'll probably cross my mind here and then though i'm not sure what it'll mean. i can leave you with your misery or try to take away your pain, perhaps take it with me. love is so forgiving, but you showed me something worth forgetting, so i'll walk away, betrothed and betrayed.

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don't stare me down with your senseless glares and knowing stances, feeling as though you comprehend my every feeling down to my inner being. my book was written all on its own, with little help from you and your words so hold your input for someone much less stubborn and much more caring. we each have our own lives for the telling, so gather around like children in the library, and hear all about them. your permanence is close to mine but the home of the heart is quite far apart. continue to build your tower and i'll sleep in the road, waiting for you to once again run me over in your hurry for the future without a second thought for anyone's feelings. life may not wait for you, nor will time, but in your rush you forget that there are people, too, that live in your world of constant thought and worry. when you remember and it dawns on you like a kettle overheating, it may be a second too late and as you very well know, time doesn't wait.

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capturing a moment through a frame, or two, a flash reaches out and embraces the membrane. a second passes and a new second occurs, leaving the last few seconds with lesser force. a countdown overhead hangs heavily upon impressionable shoulders, molding the skin and overlapping the bones. whether to look behind or forwards, to remember the past or the present, decisions are made with time wasting away. losing all chances to make the right move, the puzzle pieces melt into one rather than parts of a whole.

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