It burns.
Memory.
"Sometimes, you say that with this look on your face like you're about to swallow a bitter pill."
Memory. We're running around a corporate park wearing giant mascot letter costumes. She's a mousy little M and I'm a loud-mouthed F'er.
Memory. We're at an amusement park and she pulls the brim of her hat down lower.
It's as if I was fending them off until my deadlines were done. I bleed, I drown. I suffocate in all these.....
Memory. She inhales deeply and whispers, "I want to memorize your smell. When you leave me, I want to be able to remember how you smell." I'm not going anywhere. "You'll leave me. You don't really love me." This was six or seven years ago. Really, it was every day of our relationship.
"You've turned her into a monster in your head. Can you remember nothing good of her?"
I can't even remember her face.
Memory.
Memory.
Memory.
I bleed, I drown. Surrounded by friends, out and about, watching porn at a bar, I bleed. I drown, and I cannot imagine working up the nerve to ask for a lifeline.
"When you're down and troubled / You don't tell your friends, / You don't tell your family. / I won't let them talk about me."
Which is funny, because I'm so open about how I feel on my LJ. No, you're open about how you FELT. There's a difference.
I drown, I bleed. I think about a bad idea, and how supremely comforting it would be to make it.
"Sometimes, you say that with this look on your face like you're about to swallow a bitter pill."
Memory. We're running around a corporate park wearing giant mascot letter costumes. She's a mousy little M and I'm a loud-mouthed F'er.
Memory. We're at an amusement park and she pulls the brim of her hat down lower.
It's as if I was fending them off until my deadlines were done. I bleed, I drown. I suffocate in all these.....
Memory. She inhales deeply and whispers, "I want to memorize your smell. When you leave me, I want to be able to remember how you smell." I'm not going anywhere. "You'll leave me. You don't really love me." This was six or seven years ago. Really, it was every day of our relationship.
"You've turned her into a monster in your head. Can you remember nothing good of her?"
I can't even remember her face.
Memory.
Memory.
Memory.
I bleed, I drown. Surrounded by friends, out and about, watching porn at a bar, I bleed. I drown, and I cannot imagine working up the nerve to ask for a lifeline.
"When you're down and troubled / You don't tell your friends, / You don't tell your family. / I won't let them talk about me."
Which is funny, because I'm so open about how I feel on my LJ. No, you're open about how you FELT. There's a difference.
I drown, I bleed. I think about a bad idea, and how supremely comforting it would be to make it.