Sunday, October 21, 2012

If she could've had one wish

And then that song comes on again and 
Then I'm sitting in the drizzle, by the river, on the eighth day in a row that I've spent with you.
It's a Friday. 
"This isn't good," you laughed, earlier on that day. It was after lunch and we were stretched out on grass. 
Propped up on elbows, I watched you as you carefully picked your words. 
"I really like spending time with you."

That day, I celebrated my three months of being smoke-free by buying a pack, urgently smacking the top of the box against the inside of my wrist. I finished most of that box within the next four hours that I spent staring out at the restless waters, pen hovering over the brown pages of my notebook. 

If I could have one wish,
The song goes,
If I could have some say
I'd keep you far from home. 
You were beautiful, I remembered thinking. You made my breath catch. You were so beautiful. 
I'd roll back both my sleeves
Dig under your skin
And fix your shattered bones. 
"It's so unfair," I'd written, "that life gives us exactly what we deserve."

Hold on,
This may hurt you when I tell you of the truth
We don't get two lives to live
It's funny. Because I thought it was a very one-sided sort of thing. I hadn't expected any more. 
It's true
The only fault I found in you

I thought I'd be happy, but it was difficult for that to be an immediate reaction when actually,
I thought it was tragic.
Was not being free to take what I would give

And it was- for the most part. How suddenly,
There was you and me both, and a muddle of thoughts and feelings. 

If I could make you stay 
Convince you we'd be lost,
If we were torn apart. 
If it remained unclear
Between the two of us
Which one would be the one 
To break the other's heart

But then the song, it starts to fade out. The drizzle lightens.
I've been smoke-free for the last two years, almost. 

You're beautiful, I'm thinking to myself. You make my breath catch.
You are so beautiful. 
And it's a rainy Sunday morning, where I'm waking up to you and I.
I think you're the most beautiful person in the world to wake up to. 

Hold on,
We weren't meant to suffer so very long
Leaving love that's lost has never been a sin
Hang tight,
The only fault you have tonight
Is shutting down so cold til I break in

Saturday, October 13, 2012


So tell me just who I need to be, how I need to be,
To be exactly what you want.

Sent from my iPhone

Sunday, October 7, 2012


"When you're beautiful,"
She tells me. She whispers this to me at parties when I'm lonely, in a roomful of people. Her words fill the spaces and gaps between me and the person I'm in love with.
"Then you'll be enough. You won't be boring. She'll want to look your way twice. You won't feel like this."

"I don't think you're boring," he chirps, smiling.
I look up. Manage a smile. It feels like I'm wincing.

I think the situation is hilarious. But maybe the funny bits just haven't sank in yet.

"You won't have to feel like this. You won't feel like you could disappear into the walls. You won't feel like she doesn't notice you're there, even when you're reaching for her hand...
Sweetie, sweetie, it's very simple. I don't know why you haven't gotten it yet.
It'll all happen when you're beautiful.
Only when you're beautiful."

Sent from my iPhone

dreamed of paradise

When I was nine years old, I wanted to throw myself down a flight of stairs.

I hated that I couldn't. That my body didn't let me.
More than a decade on, I still hate that I can't.