(no subject)
I hate my last entry. I am so empty, bitter and lonely. I listen to one song for hours when I get myself like this. I further push myself into this awful feeling, and I sob on and on. I read over some things I've kept in my inbox, earlier.
Who notices? Me, I do. I notice every extra i and y. I want someone to shake at the sight of me, someone who'll feel me in them when they miss me, to say my name, grab me and cover me in reassurance, to understand my peculiar temperaments and make sure my stomach never gets it's bad feeling.
And it came to me then, that every plan is a tiny prayer to father time. As I stared at my shoes, in the ICU, that reeked of piss and 409. And I rationed my breaths as I said to myself that I'd already taken too much today. As each descending peak on the LCD took you a little farther away from me, away from me. Amongst the vending machines and year old magazines, in a place where we only say goodbye. It stung like a violent wind that our memories depend on a faulty camera in our mind. And I knew that you were a truth that I would rather lose than to have never lain beside at all. And I looked all around at all the eyes on the ground as the TV entertained itself. Cause there's no comfort in the waiting room. Just nervous pacers bracing for bad news. And then the nurse comes 'round and everyone lifts their heads. But I'm thinking of what Sarah said. That love is watching someone die,
so who's gonna watch you die?
I feel awful.
Who notices? Me, I do. I notice every extra i and y. I want someone to shake at the sight of me, someone who'll feel me in them when they miss me, to say my name, grab me and cover me in reassurance, to understand my peculiar temperaments and make sure my stomach never gets it's bad feeling.
And it came to me then, that every plan is a tiny prayer to father time. As I stared at my shoes, in the ICU, that reeked of piss and 409. And I rationed my breaths as I said to myself that I'd already taken too much today. As each descending peak on the LCD took you a little farther away from me, away from me. Amongst the vending machines and year old magazines, in a place where we only say goodbye. It stung like a violent wind that our memories depend on a faulty camera in our mind. And I knew that you were a truth that I would rather lose than to have never lain beside at all. And I looked all around at all the eyes on the ground as the TV entertained itself. Cause there's no comfort in the waiting room. Just nervous pacers bracing for bad news. And then the nurse comes 'round and everyone lifts their heads. But I'm thinking of what Sarah said. That love is watching someone die,
so who's gonna watch you die?
I feel awful.