Toltecsuperhero
Bluelighter
Fell asleep last night cursing the way we hurt each other and wondering if you'd ever change...
Woke up this morning wishing I'd been a little more patient and maybe exercised a little of the trust in you I'd always boasted about.
Today is a dream of you, incomplete and hazy.
You tried to tell me off on myspace... Fucking myspace, you inconsequential little whore. You know I hate myspace!
So, now I'm trying to figure out if I should call you up and rip you the new asshole, you soooo deserve, or if I should just let go.
It sounds so easy when you say it like that... let go...
What it really means to me is that I retract the ten inch claws I've dug into your back and front and personality and lack thereof, and stand on my own.
Trouble is, I don't remember the last time I did that, and I know I've never just stood when my heart is throbbing in my throat holding back the scream I need to let out.
I could stand before, but I usually stood for nothing... definitely not to be counted and very rarely for anything but another round at the bar.
Now I'm sober... tentatively, but I want to stay that way, and I want to be honest with myself, but honesty is like a kick in the face and I haven't stopped bleeding from the last bit.
So, I'll just write this and put it somewhere you'll never see it and pretend I'm okay so I don't have to answer any awkward questions, like, "Are you okay?"
I'll lock this away and pretend that you are still here... and still mad... because feeling anything for me is better than this vacuum.
I'll try to act like I've let go and throw on another movie I hate that you told me was great and sling a little more ill-conceived bitterness in your general direction.
Just can't believe you let me go... on fucking myspace.
Woke up this morning wishing I'd been a little more patient and maybe exercised a little of the trust in you I'd always boasted about.
Today is a dream of you, incomplete and hazy.
You tried to tell me off on myspace... Fucking myspace, you inconsequential little whore. You know I hate myspace!
So, now I'm trying to figure out if I should call you up and rip you the new asshole, you soooo deserve, or if I should just let go.
It sounds so easy when you say it like that... let go...
What it really means to me is that I retract the ten inch claws I've dug into your back and front and personality and lack thereof, and stand on my own.
Trouble is, I don't remember the last time I did that, and I know I've never just stood when my heart is throbbing in my throat holding back the scream I need to let out.
I could stand before, but I usually stood for nothing... definitely not to be counted and very rarely for anything but another round at the bar.
Now I'm sober... tentatively, but I want to stay that way, and I want to be honest with myself, but honesty is like a kick in the face and I haven't stopped bleeding from the last bit.
So, I'll just write this and put it somewhere you'll never see it and pretend I'm okay so I don't have to answer any awkward questions, like, "Are you okay?"
I'll lock this away and pretend that you are still here... and still mad... because feeling anything for me is better than this vacuum.
I'll try to act like I've let go and throw on another movie I hate that you told me was great and sling a little more ill-conceived bitterness in your general direction.
Just can't believe you let me go... on fucking myspace.
