I don't really see what I ever saw in her. It seems like I met this powerful person, who seemed to have it all together. I liked the carelessness and the ego. It wasn't until I had fallen for her that I began to realize who we both were as people. We both chased the unattainable to make ourselves feel somewhat less numb. It was beautiful to have this silent longing and lust, that neither of us spoke. We were who we were, but only behind closed doors. That's when our demons and lies ate us alive, but made us feel like what we had justified our wrong. We created deception and lies for all of our loved ones to walk upon like shattered glass. No one noticed the broken pieces until they were standing on top of it, a mountain of quiet mistakes, screaming out loud. We became who we are, more broken than before.
Last night we completed year number two of our newly found tradition. As I sat across the train car table, nothing could even compare to the sight of you. We sipped on fancy water like it was wine, while we sat there and reminisced about what the year had brought us. We realized then, that not much had changed. We were still having the same conversations that we had the year before, the same silly jokes and the name calling. We sat there, in love, but a love that was different than before. You see, last year, we had a kiddish love. The kind where everything you said was funny, and I just rolled my eyes in utter bliss. Although the conversations seemed to be the same, they turned out to be quite different. Now, our love was mature. Instead of the giddiness like that of last year, there was a serious tone. We talked about life, about our wedding, about each other. Then you mentioned that you couldn't make every decision for me, and that I would just have to learn how to do it for myself sometimes. As I heard those words, they had a sting to them. A year ago, you would have readily made any of the decisions that I would face. But something has changed. You were being truthful. So as my eyes teared up, I realized you loved me even more than before. No longer were you willing to cushion my every fall, but rather you were willing to help me grow. Although we picked at each other and peeled back the layers to get underneath, it was all done love. I realized then, at that moment, that I would rather have a truthful, honest love, over a sugarcoated wonderland. Without a doubt, I would choose the endless nights of the same old things, rather than a love where I felt like I had to be more than I really was. You accept me as is, but you encourage my best. And that in itself is better than any silly life of pointless adventures.
i was asked to write a sentence. A true sentence. A sentence that i am entirely sure is true. The truest sentence i could think of. it took me a while for i am unsure about most. But there is something that is true. truer that you. however i cannot use words to describe it for it is a feeling and no, i'm not talking about love and all that bullshit, im talking about the feeling when everything goes quiet, your lungs feel as though they have collapsed, every muscle tenses and in that blissful moment you feel as if you are invincible. it is the truest feeling i have ever felt. i know it is true because if that feeling was not true i wouldve given up pursuing it long ago for you see, everything is only as true as you believe it to be
the pendulum swung, the cockroaches scuttled and he thought. He thought of all his fingers. Each one tapping against his emaciated calf. his long unruly hair scratched the discs of his spine which were protruding from the ghostly flesh. whispering to him, the cockroaches told him of sunlight and of food. he did not understand. He did not understand much for one cannot know much if they have never left the boundaries in which one is born into. Deprived of experience and therefor wisdom, the most intelligent being rotted away beneath silky cobwebs
i swear the mirrors are changing. They contort my figure, they persuade my frown. Swirling through the reflective surface. Rising from the bleak night, the sun appeared that morning and my face glowed yellow, lips stretched up my cheeks and long black eyelashes tickling my pink eyelids. Now sat beside the mirror, my lips stretch down my cheeks, my face is pale and sickly, short eyelashes in clumpy mascara which smeared over my eyelids glistening on the purple bruises. Its the same day, i have not touched my face, yet it appears different. Im hiding from them, the mirrors, they trick me, they change me