margomargo
i'm looking over to you and i'm beaming. i can feel the happy radiating from my face and hands and heart and my very molecules are shaking at the sight of you. i reach to you, my face hurting from smiling, and you disappear. i awake, tangled in sheets, alone.
fools. we were fools to think that we could make this work, you know? i mean, it's been a few months and i still have these flashbacks. i wake up thinking that your hand is resting on my waist or that i'm going to roll over and see you smirking back at me. goddamn it, we were such beautiful little fools. i can only hope never to be so foolish again, but i suppose that's what love entails, doesn't it?
as i drifted in and out of sleep, his voice continued its soft recitation of pretty words, rubbing his thumb on my cheek and keeping his eyes on me. it was musical, that voice. i could listen to it and listen to it and listen to it until he had no sound left within him. it was deep and soft and held a steady rhythm, as if he were reading from a piece of sheet music. at this point, the nightmare was nothing but a blur in my mind.
The whole idea of a spa is ridiculous. I suppose I just don't go to them enough to understand what a decent homemade bubble bath can't cure. I want to curl up with someone in serenity, the living room our place of peace; one doesn't need a spa to find comfort.
I refuse to give up. I refuse to give up on us, on this. I miss you more than anything and there's nothing more that I want than to curl up with you in a ridiculous dream world for hours on end, nothing but us and our thoughts and words and feelings. I refuse to let someone else control my life. I refuse to cry about things I cannot control.
I refuse all of these things, but I never know what to accept.
I'm falling out of place. I miss you. I miss everyone and everything that I spent time with last month. I was so fearful of being out of my comfort zone when I got there, but now that I'm back I'm seemingly out of my comfort zone. That place is my comfort zone, those people are my comfort zone. How can I be comfortable when I'm so far away from the place I now call Home?
You have cut the harness
off of me
and have let me go
away.
I miss you
a lot.
And I know
we'll see one another
soon,
but soon
is not soon
enough.
She crunched down on the crust of her toast, cringing at the echoing sound it seemed to make in the otherwise quiet diner. A young couple continued to speak silently to one another, unaware of the girl sitting alone across the room, crunching on her stale, over-buttered bread. She wished she could be anywhere else, but didn't know where to go. The girl was stuck in a rut, what with all of her friends being off to college and her parents travelling around the world.
I'm trying to figure out the pattern of your lies. Their configuration is like a labyrinth, and I weave in and out of their paths. Some are made of stone, backed up with various lies, while others are less-solid. I can see through those, each time inching a little closer to the heart of the maze. There must be a truth inside of you, something aching to be set free.
Just one minute to let it all out. To scream, to cry, to jump. I want to run and leap and fly but you've got me stuck here in this minute. Sixty seconds to kiss you. That's all I need. That's all you need to tell me what's going on, to tell me how we are going to do this. One minute. Five, four, three, two, one.
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writing since 2012 · 12 entries · 11 days shown up
each square is a day—lit means margo showed up.
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the words margo reaches for
misscomfortrefusefracturesoneszoneheartvoicenowstuckminutesoonlistenfoolswholehands