(no subject)
Somewhere there exists a great expanse of salt water. There was a bowl that was filled with tears until it overflowed and had to be poured into the ground. First it was a puddle, then it became a pond. A lake, a sea, and eventually an ocean. I wrote all of my secrets and lies and truths on tiny slips of paper that I would tear into pieces and float in the ocean. Write. Tear. Write. Tear. Write. Tears. Tear.
Toss.
I have never been honest.
I have always been honest.
I thought about him today.
I think about him everyday.
He is-
I want someone.
I need someone.
I don't need anyone.
I can't help but-
I tried to kill-
I cannot cry.
I cried.
I never listen.
I always listen.
I wanted to hurt-
I tried to hurt-
I hurt.
I cheated on-
I cheated.
I have been cheated.
I couldn't contain my anger.
I dialed-
I said-
I wrote-
I thought-
I felt-
I felt nothing.
I broke this.
I broke myself.
I am broken.
The secrets and lies and truths sank to the bottom of the ocean, weighed down by their meaning, their insignificance; their own weight dragged them into the mud and covered themselves with passing leaves and debris, as if to say, "I am here. Don't look at me." Never to be found, but never completely lost. The years passed and the papers were forgotten. The ink blurred. The words could not be read. Eventually a brave soul would dive to the bottom of the ocean, searching for lost treasure and only surfacing with pieces of paper that once held every unthinkable thought I had ever possessed. Meaningless, so full of meaning. Written with such importance that the only reasonable place for them was at the bottom of something. The bottom of anything. The bottom of everything. The bottom.
Sink.
Sink.
Sink.
Float.
Toss.
I have never been honest.
I have always been honest.
I thought about him today.
I think about him everyday.
He is-
I want someone.
I need someone.
I don't need anyone.
I can't help but-
I tried to kill-
I cannot cry.
I cried.
I never listen.
I always listen.
I wanted to hurt-
I tried to hurt-
I hurt.
I cheated on-
I cheated.
I have been cheated.
I couldn't contain my anger.
I dialed-
I said-
I wrote-
I thought-
I felt-
I felt nothing.
I broke this.
I broke myself.
I am broken.
The secrets and lies and truths sank to the bottom of the ocean, weighed down by their meaning, their insignificance; their own weight dragged them into the mud and covered themselves with passing leaves and debris, as if to say, "I am here. Don't look at me." Never to be found, but never completely lost. The years passed and the papers were forgotten. The ink blurred. The words could not be read. Eventually a brave soul would dive to the bottom of the ocean, searching for lost treasure and only surfacing with pieces of paper that once held every unthinkable thought I had ever possessed. Meaningless, so full of meaning. Written with such importance that the only reasonable place for them was at the bottom of something. The bottom of anything. The bottom of everything. The bottom.
Sink.
Sink.
Sink.
Float.