where theres smoke there's dessert

i would like to know
how my heart can break again.
i wanted him to go, he's left,
ive called him back,
did he ever return?
now he tells me
he cant take this
he's leaving
after all he's done
after all i've been through
you'd think..i'd be happy?
that i'd had enough and wanted him out
the sooner the better?
somehow that is not so.
he made me a promise
he'd be here for me
and..i wanted to hold him to it.
but i want him to be happy
after all he's done, i want him to be happy.
he lost the one thing that did that;
me.
all he has left is beautiful british columbia
i want him to go. i really do.
i can live with it, it would make it easier
but without his phone, he is lost to me.
i'd have no idea..where he was, how he was doing
if he was dead on the side of the road.
i want to help him. and it will kill me if i cant
it has killed me in the past
because i am helpless.
i am helpless now
as the clock struck 6,
i ran around my house
searching for a phone
i ofund none. we have 5 phones floating around
and they disapear in my time of need.
fucking technology.
i found one, finaly
i called his number. it rang.
twice, then cut the the answering machine.
i left a message, as always,
in my disorganised rambling way.
i hung up...i told him i'd keep calling
he of all people, should know
that when i say i'd keep calling,
i do.
at one time he had no less than 20 missed calls in an hour.
so now here i am. i sit, by the phone...waiting
if he has his phone, then he'd listen to the message
i was never good at calculating, estimating.
i'd call him in 5 minutes, surely that would be enough time.
i smell smoke...fuck

the pie, i had made...to ease my mind.

Comments

neighborhood nights

I feel like somewhere along my life there was a shift. Suddenly nothing was for fun any more, it was all necessary. Suddenly I'm bothering with what others think, afraid to link any connotations I deem negative to my being. Why do I care what people I've never met, who'll forget they ever saw me, think of me; this obscure stranger in their peripherals. It's a warped sense of mind and place, seeing the space around me in my mind's made up ways. So I stray away from everyone, isolating myself unwittingly, turning them against me. Self fulfilling prophecies, I succeed in creating this reality. I need to break free from my mind's mentalities, with which negativity has propelled me. So I've started a new sport. I call it neighborhood night dancing. Donning headphones and heading out alone to the empty streets as the city sleeps, and moving to the beat. Letting it compel me towards a freedom long gone missing. Letting go is an art. Complete release is a tough ...

enter the struggler

Don't give up. I'm only starting to see the gravity of your situation. the extent of your damnation. In short I don't blame you for your frivolous disposition. I blame myself for not being enough to change it. That came out wrong. I can't, nor do I want to, change you. I just wish I was insentive enough to make you wish to change. Or maybe change is non-existant. I want you to grow. You're playing a static and stagnant role whilst I am flourishing and thriving. I know I'm not the same as I was when we were first in love, but the change is amplified relative your inert stance. I've always cared about you, but that too has been altered by the hand of circumstance. I've known countless feelings for you, attachment, love, lust, caring, anguish, concern. I've always felt something for you. Now it's stronger than ever before. No more silly juvenile notions of "love". I care for you like a sister, a mother, a lover, a friend. You say you don...

zip.

I dread human contact. I absolutely hate it. I hate having to think of something to say, hate having to feign interest and sympathy. It's a stressful situation and I don't even know why. I guess it's the culmination of all my antisocial tendencies over the years. Once you get into a habit it gets harder and harder to change as time goes by. I've always been the shy one, the quiet one. The exception is my friends. I'm talkative and at ease with the people I like. I love my friends and I love having friends, but I dread making them. It's like it's too much effort to be worth it. All the awkward getting to know eachothers and stuff, I'd rather just avoid it completely. But it's getting me into trouble. People think I'm arrogant, too good to talk to them. Or that I hate them. Such is the case with my mother. She's been living at her parent's house, and so I rarely see her. That suited me fine, because less interactions the better. So whenever...

rude awakenings

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