This entry was posted on Friday, May 9th, 2008 at 3:44 am and is filed under General Word Vomit, Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.
I chase my bitterness with wine tonight. One goes down easier than the other, and I imagine the clouds in the horizon are mountains. It’s going to take more than wine to get me to tell the truth, though it rises in the back of my throat like the lyrics of my favorite song.
My lips press together. The softness can hardly hold back my relentless craving for the familiar. It’s a bittersweet contradiction that the thing I’ve said I don’t want is the only thing I can think of. Though nothing ever comes of such morbid romanticism, I can’t help but pick at it, click on it, try to force my way through stories I’ve already read.
The colors and the flavors and the sounds are now no more than a hand held up, a gesture of encompassing acknowledgment that does little to sway my conflict. If anyone understands this, it would be you.
More seems to happen when I’m not consciously looking. My mornings start when I find it; my days end when it vanishes. The minutes in between are what keep me awake.
Were my resolution less a tangible force, I’d be more inclined to dim the lights and ease into acceptance. Or maybe I’d actually speak the words I really mean, I can’t quite be sure. Pride, ego, fear, and consideration make a strong filter for the division between mind and heart and provide a convenient cover story.
Still I stand behind it all. There’s safety in pain, a lustful satisfaction that masquerades as comfort. I’m certain you know what I mean.
Something always breaks in the end. If it’s me, and with my scratched surface and itching arms it may very well be, I will tell the truth.
Salvation or my ultimate ruin is only a few words away.