Monday, October 10, 2011

the Past, the Present, and the Pretense of feelings.

& I'm listening to Jack's Mannequin,
Singing the songs that used to paint our nights
Attempting to piece back together a puzzle
Of tears and aches,
Heartbreak and lies;
Trying to make sense of all the spider webs that still tie
Us to each other.
"Oh what tangled webs
We weave"
Has never made more sense
Than right now
And trying to extract myself
Is proving to be a difficult task,
Especially when I can't interpret the intentions
Of others.

& everyone hurts someone,
Even when they don't try.
Because you remind me of everyone else
Scarier: you remind me of myself;
If I don't understand the way I tick
I'll never be able to diffuse the bomb that is you.
Waiting to explode at any second,
And you're more than willing
To drag other people down too.
Including me.

& I think I like it,
That's what's awful.
And I think I like you,
But I've never been good
At separating feelings
From force.
I could, I know that,
But I've failed at everything else.
So why even try?
"Loving someone
Is jumping into a pool full
Of glass shards
& expecting not to get cut up."
But you always do,
And there aren't enough bandaids in the world
To cover all the wounds.

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