leave the poison/take the gun.
i'm sure a thousand million people have been struck by that same line in this song, struck hard so that they were reduced to a single taut and quivering string, a thousand million taut quivering strings all vibrating hesitantly, unwillingly, and every one of them singing the same goddamned note: the need to not be invisible, to not go overlooked, to be understood by this one person. the need that drapes itself around my hipbones and sinks into the silky purple spaces beneath my eyes and that wraps its arms around my shoulders and squeezes so that they're always hunched up as if i've just been dealt a blow.
i remember speaking before of how i keep fading into sleeps for hours. now, when i wake, sometimes the hurt grows so big i cannot contain it inside my ribs anymore and so now i have found another way to go: leaving. locking my room and taking my camera and iPod and running, walking for hours, searching for things to push myself out into and make concrete objects from, forcing it all out of myself through song and pictures until I am exhausted and dizzy and empty and then I come home and watch the sun rise.
i remember speaking before of how i keep fading into sleeps for hours. now, when i wake, sometimes the hurt grows so big i cannot contain it inside my ribs anymore and so now i have found another way to go: leaving. locking my room and taking my camera and iPod and running, walking for hours, searching for things to push myself out into and make concrete objects from, forcing it all out of myself through song and pictures until I am exhausted and dizzy and empty and then I come home and watch the sun rise.