Sep 2014
I took fifty steps backwards when I decided to read the book I wrote you today.
You know, the ******* fifty page story of our love?
The one that I spent three months on?
The one that I poured my heart and soul into?
The one I gave to you on our one-year anniversary, the first of "many more"?
Ya, it ******* killed me to remember all the good things I forgot on purpose.
And then I remembered that I loved you since day zero, and then I got to thinking how I'll love you till the birds stop singing.
I managed to stop reading at page 3,
But up until that point was needles to my eyes, daggers to my heart, razor blades to my soul.
I managed to stop reading at page 3,
But tomorrow may bring page 4.
This was all after I looked at the pictures of your graduation day.
Remember I couldn't stop crying?
Remember how every day since then I haven't stopped crying, dying, trying to forget all the **** you left piled up in front of me to climb over, holding my breath and slipping.
It's become an downward uphill battle,
Because every step I progress you push me down twice with an invisible hand of dishonesty.
Something stopped my finger from clicking on the folder of prom pictures.
The one where we kissed always brought tears to my eyes,
But now I'm crying for different reasons.
When I look at you in still candid shots all the other colors fade into the photograph and my eyes dilate farther into the sea of "used to be".
I'm tired of my grey world without you.
I want something to make the world what I had before,
Before you piled the **** and left me to rot,
I want all of that,
But I want none of it.
And then I try to tell myself "no, *******" but you know it never works.
It never will,
Because then I start to think about being naked with you,
And the electric feeling that your bare chest against my stomach gave me,
And how your fingers tangled in my hair drilled me deep inside of you,
So deep,
So deep I need surgery for removal.
But any successful operation would never end in life.
For all the words good about you I've written, I can match them all for bad.
But you know it doesn't matter,
Because here I come climbing over your **** pile,
Because maybe
I still have a chance with you.
Maybe if I wade through the **** I'll reach you someday.
Or maybe it's going to keep growing in height and diameter till it reaches and pollutes even Heaven above.
And then what hope is there to ever live a life without you?
Because Heaven is the only possible place,
Since I know you'll never make it there.
You know, the ******* fifty page story of our love?
The one that I spent three months on?
The one that I poured my heart and soul into?
The one I gave to you on our one-year anniversary, the first of "many more"?
Ya, it ******* killed me to remember all the good things I forgot on purpose.
And then I remembered that I loved you since day zero, and then I got to thinking how I'll love you till the birds stop singing.
I managed to stop reading at page 3,
But up until that point was needles to my eyes, daggers to my heart, razor blades to my soul.
I managed to stop reading at page 3,
But tomorrow may bring page 4.
This was all after I looked at the pictures of your graduation day.
Remember I couldn't stop crying?
Remember how every day since then I haven't stopped crying, dying, trying to forget all the **** you left piled up in front of me to climb over, holding my breath and slipping.
It's become an downward uphill battle,
Because every step I progress you push me down twice with an invisible hand of dishonesty.
Something stopped my finger from clicking on the folder of prom pictures.
The one where we kissed always brought tears to my eyes,
But now I'm crying for different reasons.
When I look at you in still candid shots all the other colors fade into the photograph and my eyes dilate farther into the sea of "used to be".
I'm tired of my grey world without you.
I want something to make the world what I had before,
Before you piled the **** and left me to rot,
I want all of that,
But I want none of it.
And then I try to tell myself "no, *******" but you know it never works.
It never will,
Because then I start to think about being naked with you,
And the electric feeling that your bare chest against my stomach gave me,
And how your fingers tangled in my hair drilled me deep inside of you,
So deep,
So deep I need surgery for removal.
But any successful operation would never end in life.
For all the words good about you I've written, I can match them all for bad.
But you know it doesn't matter,
Because here I come climbing over your **** pile,
Because maybe
I still have a chance with you.
Maybe if I wade through the **** I'll reach you someday.
Or maybe it's going to keep growing in height and diameter till it reaches and pollutes even Heaven above.
And then what hope is there to ever live a life without you?
Because Heaven is the only possible place,
Since I know you'll never make it there.
