Friday, September 4, 2009

A few things I wrote in one of my old notebooks

Untitled

The walls will breathe with no sense of negative connotation; bursting at the seams with the laughter of a thousand starving children, rooting themselves in the hopes we nurtured from the seeds of loss. I saw god's eyes flash clearly in those headlights we hung beneath the branches of every dead tree in the city; just as lost as mine were. My eyes; those eyes. They shine in every breath I take and in every cigarette you smoke. They shone in every word I said and in every line you spoke.

My pretenses are always tenser in the present tense and none of the words I said could ever match your scent. My heart remains though my body is absent, I have no regrets; no voice of dissent.

Yellow

The horizon bled yellow atop the acid shoreline; time then was 10:30pm. I left my heart on the runway for the city to share but to my surprise, no one found anything else there. "She probably hid beneath the turbine blades again" said customs. "This kind of thing happens all the time." "We'll catch her again!" they said, but they never will and they'll never win. I didn't know who they were and what I wanted but I just loved the way their eyes rang yellow. Yellow is to blame for this, yellow is to blame. Yellow is the pain in bliss, yellow was her name.

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