two futures divided by a parapet
I spotted you walking home, six floors down and across the parapet. You were so infinitely small just then. If I held up my thumb and focused hard with the one eye I kept open, I could wipe you away - just like that. But how is it that such a physically small being still does funny big things to my heart?
You stood next to me and said, him again. I said, yes, yes, him again, him always maybe forever. But this time, I feel the corners of my lips pull up and as I flicked off the last of my cigarette and asked you for another, I feel this chuckle threatening to escape from the back of my teeth. Because you’re silly.
It’s always funny how life pans out and it was just that morning that I still dream of your face even though I hardly see you anymore. How many screams does it take to wipe out a memory of a memory? How many lifetimes does it take for someone to run and catch up with another person again? How many universes have to exist just so that pathsn ever cross? For the days where I want to catch up with you, there are also other days that I wish I didn’t have to see you. Today is the former, tomorrow is the latter, and maybe the day after a new permutation.
And sometimes I wonder, would I rather live for a thousand years? Or have ten lives of a hundred years? And if I had ten lives of a hundred years, would it be a clean slate all over again for each life, or would I have the courage to ferverntly catch up with you and the rest of my one-sided memories for the rest of the nine?
The other cigarette doesn’t come as easily from you this time - you wiped the blood away from under my nose with your fingers and told me to stop smoking but as I’ve told you before, you can’t make me do the things I don’t want to do, and you can’t stop me from doing the things I want to do. The truth is, if unforgiveness is the poison that doesn’t kill the other party, but only yourself, then I’m okay with it. I’m okay with it.
You stood next to me and said, him again. I said, yes, yes, him again, him always maybe forever. But this time, I feel the corners of my lips pull up and as I flicked off the last of my cigarette and asked you for another, I feel this chuckle threatening to escape from the back of my teeth. Because you’re silly.
It’s always funny how life pans out and it was just that morning that I still dream of your face even though I hardly see you anymore. How many screams does it take to wipe out a memory of a memory? How many lifetimes does it take for someone to run and catch up with another person again? How many universes have to exist just so that pathsn ever cross? For the days where I want to catch up with you, there are also other days that I wish I didn’t have to see you. Today is the former, tomorrow is the latter, and maybe the day after a new permutation.
And sometimes I wonder, would I rather live for a thousand years? Or have ten lives of a hundred years? And if I had ten lives of a hundred years, would it be a clean slate all over again for each life, or would I have the courage to ferverntly catch up with you and the rest of my one-sided memories for the rest of the nine?
The other cigarette doesn’t come as easily from you this time - you wiped the blood away from under my nose with your fingers and told me to stop smoking but as I’ve told you before, you can’t make me do the things I don’t want to do, and you can’t stop me from doing the things I want to do. The truth is, if unforgiveness is the poison that doesn’t kill the other party, but only yourself, then I’m okay with it. I’m okay with it.