rii
10/07/08, 08:49 PM
just like the batman bandaid on my hand
your heart is safe in my head.
so if i couldn't breathe would you be there for me?
i believe the relevance walked out the door with the last girl
trashy, and unbalanced, and tired
the suggestion you made was almost as smart as when he asked for a break.
everything fell apart
some love is symmetrical and cold
like metal in the middle of winter with a bad rust.
it can be pretty, but it takes someone who sees things the right way.
those cliches that piled up in my head and the days i spent rushing them away with cigarette smoke,
your voice;
"please, please, please, just.. don't."
something like that, something you won't take back.
at least i attempted a change,
chewed up pencils and broken cd cases.
all a result of this unbalanced, cold feeling in my gut that i never got rid of.
i can tell you're looking for a way to get rid of me but keep me close, like a ghost you don't hear or see
but the presence of such is enough to keep you up.
your indifference can be infuriating, i stayed in the bath for three hours just to keep my head filled with h2o and the speakers muffled with criteria of what you would imagine is enough to keep my head above water.
words can't kill me but your will can, your hand on mine can, your eyes set on mine from across the room can.
let's not do this again,
because as soon as you pull the band-aid off it stings.
and you whispered
"don't you wish you could breathe?"
i bite my lip until it bleeds, just to keep myself from explaining to you what i really think.
your words are like liquid, and they dissolve into air
but i'm not the sun, and i can't soak em up.
i just pretend like i'm doing something productive, change the subject
"i wish i could move to london..."
my head's swimming, while my mouth makes casual conversation, my heart is telling me i don't wanna do this again.
but i'd let you in anyway just so i can fight it to be alone later.
the floor tiles are so cold at 4am,
the only things keeping me alive are the breaths and sighs of the trees outside.
but the leaky faucet just might be the straw that breaks my knee caps,
leading to my premature collapse.
your hands are rougher than i remembered..
why didn't i remember?
it doesn't matter.
the point is you're sharing your air with me again, and i'm loving every minute of it
even if i feel like this oxygen is choking me, i'll inhale and inhale until i can't breathe anymore.
i distinctly remember how your heart used to beat for me but i'm past that now
or so i thought..
i bet you sneeze alot, even though you never believed in superstitions.
one of my older poems.
uh, critiques please?
your heart is safe in my head.
so if i couldn't breathe would you be there for me?
i believe the relevance walked out the door with the last girl
trashy, and unbalanced, and tired
the suggestion you made was almost as smart as when he asked for a break.
everything fell apart
some love is symmetrical and cold
like metal in the middle of winter with a bad rust.
it can be pretty, but it takes someone who sees things the right way.
those cliches that piled up in my head and the days i spent rushing them away with cigarette smoke,
your voice;
"please, please, please, just.. don't."
something like that, something you won't take back.
at least i attempted a change,
chewed up pencils and broken cd cases.
all a result of this unbalanced, cold feeling in my gut that i never got rid of.
i can tell you're looking for a way to get rid of me but keep me close, like a ghost you don't hear or see
but the presence of such is enough to keep you up.
your indifference can be infuriating, i stayed in the bath for three hours just to keep my head filled with h2o and the speakers muffled with criteria of what you would imagine is enough to keep my head above water.
words can't kill me but your will can, your hand on mine can, your eyes set on mine from across the room can.
let's not do this again,
because as soon as you pull the band-aid off it stings.
and you whispered
"don't you wish you could breathe?"
i bite my lip until it bleeds, just to keep myself from explaining to you what i really think.
your words are like liquid, and they dissolve into air
but i'm not the sun, and i can't soak em up.
i just pretend like i'm doing something productive, change the subject
"i wish i could move to london..."
my head's swimming, while my mouth makes casual conversation, my heart is telling me i don't wanna do this again.
but i'd let you in anyway just so i can fight it to be alone later.
the floor tiles are so cold at 4am,
the only things keeping me alive are the breaths and sighs of the trees outside.
but the leaky faucet just might be the straw that breaks my knee caps,
leading to my premature collapse.
your hands are rougher than i remembered..
why didn't i remember?
it doesn't matter.
the point is you're sharing your air with me again, and i'm loving every minute of it
even if i feel like this oxygen is choking me, i'll inhale and inhale until i can't breathe anymore.
i distinctly remember how your heart used to beat for me but i'm past that now
or so i thought..
i bet you sneeze alot, even though you never believed in superstitions.
one of my older poems.
uh, critiques please?