Sunday, August 9, 2009

the day she retired

I miss the day before my heart and mouth went poison... not even a kiss is needed to strike one dead... because my words are deadly and I seem to feed on the dying... or at least, I did.

And now the negativity is sauntering off like a dim short sound wave in the background. And I am grasping my own hand and my own heart again... getting further from my lost self and finding my footing once again...

But I miss the certain gray areas surrounding the days before his return... before her return...

And I am uncertain about a lot of things still... I'm just feeling less insane... that's the only thing that has changed really.

And I can feel people slipping from my hands... like sand - no matter how hard you grip... eventually the last grain will fall to the floor and be swept out to sea. And I can see... it happening.. right now.

And I think I am losing, but I no longer feel lost. I am merely background noise these days... and I think I might be happy with this. I want everyone happy... with or without me. I am destined to spend this long short life alone... and I am fine with this... I am fine.

It's a matter of lacking a certain care I used to be too full of. That constant need to protect everyone... to love everyone to my fullest capability... that constant forgetting about myself.

And still I forget sometimes... when I'm spinning too quickly. But there is work to be done... and in love, I am done. I can't protect that which longs to lack protection and refuses to embrace my care. And with this I am less sensitive. I am less a person, perhaps... but I've always been far too intense, truly... so this must be for the best.

Emotions no longer rule me. I am production. A product of what I once was.

But it's that I am missing... your arms and words... and your conversations (because I went crazy)... and the art of being enthralling to more than one person... to anyone at all.

I am lack luster despite some arguments on the topic in my nearest past. I ruined everything with my mouth... feeding it liquor and spewing out words so irrational and overly-emotional. I ruined everything with my hands... on your body, on my body, on metal against metal pulling at my blood. I wish I would have choked on my words and slowly bled to death with kind regards to my hands and sharp objects... but I'm still here, more so in the background than ever before...


I have stopped spinning. I sit here still and silent. I am the retired ruiner.

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