iLoveYouWithaKnife
Bluelighter
- Joined
- Mar 30, 2002
- Messages
- 8,351
It's been such a while,
since I sat down last.
And tried to write these words
that would make sense to myself.
Or make sense to anyone else
who would eventually come across them.
I've been at this standpoint now,
not good, not bad.
Just average.
Where I have come to terms,
with
maybe it just doesn't get better than this.
So I stopped writing.
Stopped sharing my sorrow,
my bliss,
Stopped sharing in my belief
that maybe this will all get better
And maybe if it doesn't,
I'd rest assured knowing
that there was someone else out there
waiting for my words
so they could cope.
Because reguardless if my words
reach you or not:
We both feel sad (all the time)
and Sometimes (just sometimes)
there's nothing else in the world.
But just hoping there is someone, somewhere
that feels what you are feeling.
And I haven't seen my Daddy in six years.
And the last time I saw him,
the coffin was closed and people where praying.
And the time before that,
I was crying relentlessly to my best friend in the world,
while this real old lady came up to me,
and said, when you were three
and went to florida
you bought this picture of this dog for me.
I had no clue what she was talking about.
I had no clue who the fuck she was.
And the time before that......
I drove the van recklessly
to the hospital,
only to see your lifeless body
laying there.
And no more words could be exchanged.
Because you couldn't talk anymore.
You were gone.
And I was about to leave word tonight,
and this guy bought me a drink.
I tried to buy him one back,
but my boss wouldn't let me,
said he'd explain later.
He said 'Jackie' was in town for the week,
and I couldn't buy him a drink.
My money wasn't good enough.
Bought me another.
He works in Vegas, as a dealer.
I went to thank him for the beer,
he said 'you are, ummm... a kukel, right?"
i didnt know if i should be proud or hang my self
in dissaproval.
I said Yes.
He said
Me and your daddy were real real good friends.
I looked at him.
He looked away.
He said, 'get back to your dart game.'
It's not that important I said.
He said i'll talk to you later.
I walked away.
I wanted to stay and here about all these great times,
they had.
About what a wonderful guy, he was.
my dad.
Game was over,
started to talk again,
about a lady with red hair.
I said it wasn't my mom!!
He said he had to go.
He'd be in town, and it'd be great to talk to me again.
Why does it seem as though everything is a secret?
I come home,
to deal with a boy
that makes me want to rip my fucking hair out...
the little that is left.
Chopped it off today,
could care fucking less.
It'll grow back,
I wish my life would.
I am sick of meeting all my daddy's high school friends,
who turn to me and say,
I can't believe your Joey's daughter
and then do a bump with me.
Is this what I have to look forward to...
Hearing old stories and reminscing? .........
that guy Jackie.....
he was about to cry tonight when i was talking
to him, and playin darts,
he stopped a few times mid sentence and told me to walk away,
that we'd talk again another day,
because I don't think he knew exactly what to say....
What do you say about an old friend who you loved,
that is dead and gone,
forgotten about,
when his young daughter is sitting in front of you.
What do you say to her?
What could you say to me?
...to make me smile.
since I sat down last.
And tried to write these words
that would make sense to myself.
Or make sense to anyone else
who would eventually come across them.
I've been at this standpoint now,
not good, not bad.
Just average.
Where I have come to terms,
with
maybe it just doesn't get better than this.
So I stopped writing.
Stopped sharing my sorrow,
my bliss,
Stopped sharing in my belief
that maybe this will all get better
And maybe if it doesn't,
I'd rest assured knowing
that there was someone else out there
waiting for my words
so they could cope.
Because reguardless if my words
reach you or not:
We both feel sad (all the time)
and Sometimes (just sometimes)
there's nothing else in the world.
But just hoping there is someone, somewhere
that feels what you are feeling.
And I haven't seen my Daddy in six years.
And the last time I saw him,
the coffin was closed and people where praying.
And the time before that,
I was crying relentlessly to my best friend in the world,
while this real old lady came up to me,
and said, when you were three
and went to florida
you bought this picture of this dog for me.
I had no clue what she was talking about.
I had no clue who the fuck she was.
And the time before that......
I drove the van recklessly
to the hospital,
only to see your lifeless body
laying there.
And no more words could be exchanged.
Because you couldn't talk anymore.
You were gone.
And I was about to leave word tonight,
and this guy bought me a drink.
I tried to buy him one back,
but my boss wouldn't let me,
said he'd explain later.
He said 'Jackie' was in town for the week,
and I couldn't buy him a drink.
My money wasn't good enough.
Bought me another.
He works in Vegas, as a dealer.
I went to thank him for the beer,
he said 'you are, ummm... a kukel, right?"
i didnt know if i should be proud or hang my self
in dissaproval.
I said Yes.
He said
Me and your daddy were real real good friends.
I looked at him.
He looked away.
He said, 'get back to your dart game.'
It's not that important I said.
He said i'll talk to you later.
I walked away.
I wanted to stay and here about all these great times,
they had.
About what a wonderful guy, he was.
my dad.
Game was over,
started to talk again,
about a lady with red hair.
I said it wasn't my mom!!
He said he had to go.
He'd be in town, and it'd be great to talk to me again.
Why does it seem as though everything is a secret?
I come home,
to deal with a boy
that makes me want to rip my fucking hair out...
the little that is left.
Chopped it off today,
could care fucking less.
It'll grow back,
I wish my life would.
I am sick of meeting all my daddy's high school friends,
who turn to me and say,
I can't believe your Joey's daughter
and then do a bump with me.
Is this what I have to look forward to...
Hearing old stories and reminscing? .........
that guy Jackie.....
he was about to cry tonight when i was talking
to him, and playin darts,
he stopped a few times mid sentence and told me to walk away,
that we'd talk again another day,
because I don't think he knew exactly what to say....
What do you say about an old friend who you loved,
that is dead and gone,
forgotten about,
when his young daughter is sitting in front of you.
What do you say to her?
What could you say to me?
...to make me smile.
