(no subject)
Reading Pix's entries reminds me of the metaphor quilts I used to stitch through my life.
How you are gone and I'm still here because I will always stay because I am me and only me. I am it. And you are gone. You are walking away in expensive shoes - poser thrifter shoes. That always confused me. Your dreams mixed in with you reality: I needed one or the other. Your dreams I could be part of, your reality I could help you escape from. But the mix...not the mix. Not the lies.
You lied to me.
You lied to me.
You fucking lied to me. Talk about trust, girl. Talk about walking away. You're walking away from me, I'd say. And I bet you bente pesos that you'd say I'm walking away from you. Darling: we're standing on ice flows and we're just standing still and we keep floating away away from each other. Away.
Don't blame me for that one more scar on your perennially broken heart. Because I'm only half of the it that used to be us. You said never again would you be an us, a we. You said you'd learned better than that. But I don't know that you have. Because we were exactly that. And when the magic left I was left sneaking glances at your many hearts to see if there was maybe a little doubt in your heart, too.
Baby - can we let it go? Can we let it slip away, our hands dancing in a dressing room of scarves? Because I don't want to rebuild this. Because it was built on magic and circumstance and what was. And I'm waist deep in reality and sinking and things change and all that ever will be is what is.
Joan says, Goodbye is too good a word for you so I'll just say fare thee well.
Fare thee well.
How you are gone and I'm still here because I will always stay because I am me and only me. I am it. And you are gone. You are walking away in expensive shoes - poser thrifter shoes. That always confused me. Your dreams mixed in with you reality: I needed one or the other. Your dreams I could be part of, your reality I could help you escape from. But the mix...not the mix. Not the lies.
You lied to me.
You lied to me.
You fucking lied to me. Talk about trust, girl. Talk about walking away. You're walking away from me, I'd say. And I bet you bente pesos that you'd say I'm walking away from you. Darling: we're standing on ice flows and we're just standing still and we keep floating away away from each other. Away.
Don't blame me for that one more scar on your perennially broken heart. Because I'm only half of the it that used to be us. You said never again would you be an us, a we. You said you'd learned better than that. But I don't know that you have. Because we were exactly that. And when the magic left I was left sneaking glances at your many hearts to see if there was maybe a little doubt in your heart, too.
Baby - can we let it go? Can we let it slip away, our hands dancing in a dressing room of scarves? Because I don't want to rebuild this. Because it was built on magic and circumstance and what was. And I'm waist deep in reality and sinking and things change and all that ever will be is what is.
Joan says, Goodbye is too good a word for you so I'll just say fare thee well.
Fare thee well.