I weigh myself on these scales as I’m keen for you to know I exist. I wanted you to answer my letters, realise that these words I write with dedicated perfection and chardonnay are for. You. I wanted to be your only to exception to the rule. I wanted to be your fool. I wanted to be. Just me. And that was to be enough, but the road was too rough. Drowning in pity, suffocating in sin. My words were too pretty and delicate. Worthless to the deaf ears they fell upon. My tears, my tears they fall wasted to the ground. Ravaged by my mis-communicated sound. The way I gave my body to you. I let you in. I let you feel my grief and you buried your way in. Deceitful you. Beautiful you. My life, my soul, what happens in heaven now?
I thought too many times I would be forgiven. This person was too much for even you to take. I kept falling. I kept going too fast and not using the brake. I thought I had finally landed, grounded myself from this stupid obsession. That someone once made me feel I gave the wrong impression. Too needy, too weak, too vunerable, too loud. Wore stupid clothes that stood out from the crowd. I gave too much then held it all back. Click, click, click, ******* clack. Where were you when I called your name. When I took you and held you in vain. There was my shame. There was my guilt and pride. Took you along for a ride? Are you sure my dear? Are you sure? Fed up of being told what I am worth waiting for. Yet I would make a pilgrimage for you.
Faster and harder braver than before. But you never liked that. You showed me the door. My light too bright, too shiny, too new. I was overall, too much, for you. For your highly expectations I was bound to fail. Just one small girl in an overpowering world of you. This power, this lowly pleasure, of giving you your due and then to hear your whatever. I am lost, I am lost, I am lost. I am bound by your words by their very cost. I never expected to borne to this, I thought I could just get on without your redemption. Lies and lies and more from your hand. This is not my world, your ideas are too un/planned? Who are you, who were you back then? To tell me that I am not right, I need to change from within. No. What? Your preaching’s are confusing to even the most intelligent man.
My body, my life. My heart, your strife. Not done with everything, you wanted more. Hell over high water, you threw me up on the shore. Please, oh please, oh pretty little please, wait, hang on a minute whilst I fall to my knees. Let me know when you’ve made your decision. Thanks. I’ll just wait a little lon-ger. Tell me. How does your faith instill such emotion? It’s all false love and devotion. Popular back in the day, the 80’s I may say, back when kids were high and it was easier back then, easier for me to write without a red pen. So you invented love as your folly, to prey on the weak, the young and the sought after. So you could fill your life with the ***** of your laughter. Ever-y-thin-g is so long and drawn out; be wild, be shy, be quiet. Don’t shout, so LOUD. At me. I need to hear what exactly you are telling me. To be.
