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plastic blood

the moment when you met was rather insignificant

but then someone told you that she liked you

and you realized that – hey – you suddenly liked her too.

and so you expectedly courted her

kissing her at moments that you did with previous girls

telling her old sentences

recycling plainly hidden stories from your childhood:

one showing your good heartedness

one about your embarrassing marching band days (without forgetting to mention your pop-punk band now)

and, of course, the first girlfriend tale that makes you seem vulnerable.

and through these, you reveal things to her that other girls, now decaying in your mind, have known for many many months.

 

yes you hook up

and the *** is up to par

and there’s some appeal to the overall lack of trying involved.

you date as obligation

and you somehow convince yourself that you love her

because feeling wanted feels so **** pleasant

and her lack of intrusion on the rest of your life is pretty convenient overall.

 

and out of complacency this love takes hold

or at least solidifies like an algae bloom

and you grow tired for settling

and she gets exhausted from caring

and everything stagnates to a perfect balance.

your blood hardens to plastic

so the your muscles can no longer fight

against the unsettling comfort of the life

you said you’d never lead.

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Written by
david-clifford-turner
American
Published
Jul 12, 2010
Lines·Words
27·227
Notes

© David Clifford Turner, 2010

For more scrawls, head to: www.ramblingbastard.blogspot.com

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