(no subject)
I thought that all this time, if I just said the right words in the exact order that you wanted to hear them in. If I tilted my head the right way when we kissed. If I applied the right amount of pressure to your hand as mine was feeling the center of your palm.
And all this time, my name, right between my first and my last, was missing in your mind. There was nothing there. I know yours why don't you know mine?
And then I know. When you put your arms around me. And he says, "That line. 'Before he met a girl.' That's it, man." And you look at him and then you look at me and you kiss my nose, and I know. I know things that maybe you wouldn't want me to know, but I know them anyways. And the way your heavy heart weighs down on my concience gives you away more than anywords from anyone.
And I know that above this there is that feeling from all over. I absorb this feeling that's not in me. I absorb it through the pores in my skin, from the sky. From you, maybe. When I look at you, I try so hard. I smile, like your forgetfullness doesn't hurt my feelings, and I shuffle your hair with my fingers, but I look you in the eye, and god knows, I just could not fake something like that with you. I could never cheat you out of my emotions like that. Even the negative ones.
But you always make up for it. Dear, your mouth smells like alcohol, the tips of your working fingers smell like cheap tobacco, but your neck and that place where my head fits right on your shoulder. Now that, my love, THAT smells just like you.
I look around the room, and I realize for the first time. This is just us. This is just another extension of my life. One of the only parts that I will ever love. The framed picture of us sleeping, is hanging on the wall right next to where you lay your weary head. And it was not put there so that I can see it. It's not put there so I would notice. We're just there. To remind us of who we are. Before we were who we've become.
And all this time, my name, right between my first and my last, was missing in your mind. There was nothing there. I know yours why don't you know mine?
And then I know. When you put your arms around me. And he says, "That line. 'Before he met a girl.' That's it, man." And you look at him and then you look at me and you kiss my nose, and I know. I know things that maybe you wouldn't want me to know, but I know them anyways. And the way your heavy heart weighs down on my concience gives you away more than anywords from anyone.
And I know that above this there is that feeling from all over. I absorb this feeling that's not in me. I absorb it through the pores in my skin, from the sky. From you, maybe. When I look at you, I try so hard. I smile, like your forgetfullness doesn't hurt my feelings, and I shuffle your hair with my fingers, but I look you in the eye, and god knows, I just could not fake something like that with you. I could never cheat you out of my emotions like that. Even the negative ones.
But you always make up for it. Dear, your mouth smells like alcohol, the tips of your working fingers smell like cheap tobacco, but your neck and that place where my head fits right on your shoulder. Now that, my love, THAT smells just like you.
I look around the room, and I realize for the first time. This is just us. This is just another extension of my life. One of the only parts that I will ever love. The framed picture of us sleeping, is hanging on the wall right next to where you lay your weary head. And it was not put there so that I can see it. It's not put there so I would notice. We're just there. To remind us of who we are. Before we were who we've become.