(no subject)
everytime they ask me, and i know they ask you because it's a common small talk line, "what have you been up to?" I say "not too much," knowing full well that i am lying. but there's a lot, so i'll talk here and not there.
i have a weight on my mind. i don't feel terrible, just heavy, always tired - - i wonder when i can finally let the past go. thirty minutes always got me: "that's my forte," i heard. forte's quite the perfect word. unforgettable, that and the way you, with a laugh, took saliva to the ash smudge on my stomach left from where you'd left that spoon. watching you kill your body a little more with every couple of hours, listening to the good old astral weeks, hearing your crazy mutterings once again...
" i may hate myself in the morning, but i'm gonna..."
i have a weight on my mind. i don't feel terrible, just heavy, always tired - - i wonder when i can finally let the past go. thirty minutes always got me: "that's my forte," i heard. forte's quite the perfect word. unforgettable, that and the way you, with a laugh, took saliva to the ash smudge on my stomach left from where you'd left that spoon. watching you kill your body a little more with every couple of hours, listening to the good old astral weeks, hearing your crazy mutterings once again...
" i may hate myself in the morning, but i'm gonna..."