(no subject)
Theres this little empty space on your list where I erased myself. It’s like this scab, or a stain you cant get out of your shirt, or a chunk of something stuck on a plate, it’s meaning is trivial at this point, but it’s annoyance overtakes the room.
Walking down the stupid street and I’m thinking all about how I don’t write anything down anymore. I think about spelling flaws and try to think of deep sentences or just regular sentences but it’s all air between ears. “WHAT IS HAPPENING TO THE TWO OF US!” someone yells, and it wasn’t even me. it wasn’t even me they were yelling at, but like nails on a chalkboard, it certainly got everyone’s attention.
So brain, this I ask you, what is happening to the two of us? we used to be pals. Half of you would worry and the other half would pat that other half on the back and say it’s all going to be ok. It’s all going to be ok. But now here I am, some empty spot on your computer screen and I can’t stop thinking of the speed of love, the fucking gust of wind that blew through and out of my life twice, both times just as harsh. At the corner of that beach, the first place I kissed you, the last place I kissed you, and every night between them I dreamt it was there I was kissing you. Kissing, kissing, kissing you with a moon in the sky and some stars and some big old airplanes above our heads. In my dreams we fall through the sand into our bed with a ceiling over our heads and covers and hold to it, because we have some place to stay. This room would be void of the past. It would be void of sour future. Void of all the fucking bullshit words and gestures and strife. Just me on you on me under blankets under a ceiling under the sand under the sky.
And how did I get here? And why does everyone go home?
And all these thoughts come at me in a nanosecond before they’re gone, and that’s probably for the best. All that earth pressure is too much, all that mind and time, it’s too much. I live in this room and its got some walls and some floors and ceilings and stuff and that’s just enough for me. there are these two windows, and they’re totally best friends, one gust of wind from one side will reach out to the other side, and vice versa. It’s nice to be such a nice meeting spot for air.
So my hair blows and blows and blows and she never wants to talk to you again she says, she never wants to talk to you again. And I said that to you once and I meant it, and all this air and this wind between us, none of it is reaching us again.
Walking down the stupid street and I’m thinking all about how I don’t write anything down anymore. I think about spelling flaws and try to think of deep sentences or just regular sentences but it’s all air between ears. “WHAT IS HAPPENING TO THE TWO OF US!” someone yells, and it wasn’t even me. it wasn’t even me they were yelling at, but like nails on a chalkboard, it certainly got everyone’s attention.
So brain, this I ask you, what is happening to the two of us? we used to be pals. Half of you would worry and the other half would pat that other half on the back and say it’s all going to be ok. It’s all going to be ok. But now here I am, some empty spot on your computer screen and I can’t stop thinking of the speed of love, the fucking gust of wind that blew through and out of my life twice, both times just as harsh. At the corner of that beach, the first place I kissed you, the last place I kissed you, and every night between them I dreamt it was there I was kissing you. Kissing, kissing, kissing you with a moon in the sky and some stars and some big old airplanes above our heads. In my dreams we fall through the sand into our bed with a ceiling over our heads and covers and hold to it, because we have some place to stay. This room would be void of the past. It would be void of sour future. Void of all the fucking bullshit words and gestures and strife. Just me on you on me under blankets under a ceiling under the sand under the sky.
And how did I get here? And why does everyone go home?
And all these thoughts come at me in a nanosecond before they’re gone, and that’s probably for the best. All that earth pressure is too much, all that mind and time, it’s too much. I live in this room and its got some walls and some floors and ceilings and stuff and that’s just enough for me. there are these two windows, and they’re totally best friends, one gust of wind from one side will reach out to the other side, and vice versa. It’s nice to be such a nice meeting spot for air.
So my hair blows and blows and blows and she never wants to talk to you again she says, she never wants to talk to you again. And I said that to you once and I meant it, and all this air and this wind between us, none of it is reaching us again.