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hopeless case. [10 Mar 2007|01:39pm]

I saw those new photographs.
Your beard has gone and your hair is long.
Just how I like it.

And sometimes I forget you're no longer mine.
And I look at your lips and your nose and your eyes.
They all belonged to me once upon a time.
You belonged to me.

I remember your chest on my spine.
I remember your lips on my lips.

And I can barely wait until you return.
And I wish I had certainty that you would return.
To me, that is.

emily and bonnie. [27 Feb 2007|11:49pm]

two free spirits pretty much trapped; one in her own twisted shame and heartbreak, the other in the inadequacy she wraps around her heart. in a way they share it all; the same person in two bodies. you wouldn't realise how tough it is being a dreamer. always wanting something more. always new sparks niggling at the edge of your head when all you want to do is make that dream your world. if they could be so lucky as to never dream, but what kind of luck is that anyway?

there's no need for any more maps; they know each other too well. they just need to get away. it's that goal that keeps them going. everything they do is to get there. flying along in a car, the wind crawling through their hair and blowing away their taunting subconscious. the music drowning out the past with no need for the darting words that go unspoken. endless summer nights on the beach dancing around the bonfire that glows like the love they have for each other in their hearts. it's quite surprising how close they've grown with god pushing them along a righteous path of guilt and sin.

they'd like to be able to say 'look, i'm sorry but we know how it works. the world is no longer mysterious'. but that essence of mystery is what they strain for. always shying away from the predictability and uncanny resemblance to all of gods creatures. anything to be unique, anything to be the same as each other. their relationship was ineffable. they could communicate with a nudge from elbow to rib; sharp intake of breath to ear; smiling eyes to smiling eyes. it didn't all need to be said for it was already out there in the atmosphere between them. they couldn't be any more in tune. for god knows it is not polite and not quite right to say honey i'm sorry but i've lost my will to live one more day. they kept each other alive endlessly. and sometimes they'd ponder the possibility of something awful ever happening to one or the other. the dreamy smiles and hushed laughter would soon chase those thoughts away; not that they could bare to dwell on them for longer than a few seconds.

they know they have too much influence on each other; too much power. thank god they use it sensibly. not that trying to be sensible with your emotions means it ever works. their words and actions can give deadly encouragement. how bad they've behaved. how much they've learned. how intertwined they live. how tame they began and how wild they grew themselves.

it's pretty hard to dust off the freckles from their noses when the sun is in their eyes and they can't see right from wrong. climbing out of each others pockets, after awful crying into pillows that can't cry back the night before, is when they learn. smoking cigarettes to get skinny; dancing to be rid of emotion; going over and over everything they did wrong each night.

but it's the summer thrills they want where they can explore themselves and explore each other. reach new depths that are unimaginable, even to them. see, it isn't all glum and loathesome. sometimes they're all tangled up inside themselves yet they feel warm and glowy. there will always be those moments where they feel like christmas lights. it was in those moments, when they could see the world spin beneath them, that they let their balloons fly. and they were more themselves than they could ever be. so real.

they huddle together as if they can take on the wind and rain with their bodies interlocked. sitting there in their pathetic hopefulness, smiles splattered on their faces with only disappointment awaiting them. he never came. the naivete of it all showed that day in the children's play area of the local park. frozen but smiling; atleast they had each other. and emily whispers over and over; 'est-ce que je peux vous garder?'

sometimes they convince themselves that they don't need a saviour. for after all, they are warriors of the world and noone can bring them down.

i miss you. [27 Feb 2007|11:48pm]

Written: February 22nd 2007

We walked along; our feet, sinking, in the mud we clogged up our love with. I was ever hopeful. You were in a world I couldn't quite grasp.

You offered me a chip. I nodded. Opened my mouth and you went to feed me, pulling it away at the last minute. One of those moments where I'd pout and make my 'sad eyes' at you. You'd be laughing and go to feed me again but I'd refuse.

Later, you'd tell me you did a scene from Walk The Line with me and I'd beg you to tell me what it was.

I just watched Walk The Line for the first time, baby.

I miss you.

freckle face. [27 Feb 2007|11:47pm]


Written: February 20th 2007

He can send anything to this machine.
He can be awful, sweet, vile or mean.

But I'll still be glad I have his attention.
And I'll still feel special whatever he mentions.
And all that he says will make my heart race.

Even if it's just him calling me a freckle face.


tears. [27 Feb 2007|11:46pm]

Written: July 6th 2006.

It's the worst when she's on the bus. All those strangers around her, all with something else on their minds. These were the times that she enjoyed; the travelling. It was amazing, to her, how she got to sit there and watch the world go by and make up stories about the people getting on and off and moving in and out of her head.

It's not so easy now though. Her troubles are too big to wonder about anyone elses. Her mind is too full up with him. You could say she deserved it. Those fleeting looks, hands held, kissed cheeks, friendly hugs. They shouldn't have been, but they were. And she had liked it. But not anymore. Was she wishing that it was over? Maybe she was. She sure as hell wasn't now though. He was more in her mind than he had ever been and those breakdowns on the bus meant she walked more. Walking meant moving those muscles, doing something, anything, other than sitting there just thinking. The bus led her to awful things and it was getting unbearable - the crying in front of them. They needn't even make up stories of her life, it was obvious. It couldn't be more obvious than having her chest ripped open and a jagged gap in the middle of her heart.

She missed the kisses. The way he lifted her chin up so their lips were in line. The way he'd scratch her leg, always sit next to her, tuck his feet under her legs to keep them warm. She missed his eyes, the way he'd look at her with that smile on his face. The adventures under covers, the hands that fit together in all kinds of ways. Looking back at the old messages always made her cry. The hope was there but she didn't want it. She did want it. Oh, how it hurt. They sat together on the sofa in the corner, cushions on their laps. But that hadn't happened for a while now.

And she wasn't sure how she would make it through the rest of her life. The songs with the words so true, so right, so fitting and perfect meant the tears would come ever so much and she really had no idea how to stop them anymore.

And the world was less brighter these days.

crushed. [27 Feb 2007|11:46pm]

Written: June 27th 2006.

it's like that feeling that you can't describe no matter how hard you think about it. well that's what she said anyway. but i didn't believe her. there's always words. sometimes i only have one word to describe everything but i always do have atleast that one. she just didn't want to talk about it. and i don't blame her. and you never really get it until it happens to you but i didn't believe her when she said that either. it's all those cliché sayings, people don't pay attention to them. they only became clichés because of how often they were said and how true they actually were. but even then it's hard to believe. hard to understand. you need experience. and when it comes you wish you didn't have it. but then again that experience is what makes you.

i don't know why she feels like she has to feel sad. i guess it's just easier. and sometimes it's harder to actually face up to everything. one day when i know how, i'm gonna tell her. i'm gonna help her because i know what it feels like to be in that position and i wouldn't wish it on anyone else. and i never did understand those lyrics until that night when she had a shoulder to cry on and i had no words for her. i only understood then what someone means when they say they're speechless. i'm not wise. i couldn't console. but i would've taken away that pain. even after i felt it myself not long ago.

rain. [27 Feb 2007|11:45pm]

Written: May 17th 2006.

I got wet in the rain today.
It made me want to dance.
I love to walk about in the rain.
I rarely get the chance.

10 things i hate about you. [27 Feb 2007|11:45pm]

Written: May 12th 2006.

I hate the way you talk to me, and the way you cut your hair.
I hate the way you make me sad. I hate that you don't care.
I hate your big dumb busy life, and the way you're in my mind.
I hate you so much it makes me sick; it even makes me rhyme.
I hate the way you treat me bad. I hate it when we fight.
I hate it when you make me laugh, 'cause it's worse when you make me cry.
I hate it that you're not around, and the fact that you don't call.
But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you.
Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.

Okay, so I changed it a bit to match me.

girl outside my window. [27 Feb 2007|11:44pm]

Written: April 28th 2006.

she just
keeps walking
round and round the lamp post
keeps spinning
it's what she loves the most

isn't it tedious?
maybe it's all the fun she's ever known
but it can't be special
because she's all alone

she's in her long black dress
the sun is shining down
and nothing is distracting her
she just keeps on going round

but when i look back out my window
the wind's swept her away
she isn't there anymore
was she there anyway?

but i know i wouldn't mind being like her
content, distant, dancing ghost
i wouldn't mind looking forward to
a chance to dance around that post

and oh look
she's there again
back with her old best friend
i wonder how long he will entertain her this time
how long she'll spend

why does she enjoy it so?
i doubt i'll ever know.

decisions. [27 Feb 2007|11:44pm]

Written: April 20th 2006.

Their names are written on the pavement.
Carved into the cement.

We hadn't met before that day,
And with hands held we went.

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