thelayersunseen
The thought of you leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. There's nothing good left. Nothing alive. You memory has gone stale like the chips you left out on the counter. They can't be revived. You can't be revived.
The headband kept the hair from falling into his eyes. It was so funny how it stuck out in different directions. He kept doing what he was doing completely clueless as to how cute he was as I watched him.
I wish I could outsource my heart to stop feeling this suffocating pressure of where you left your knife.
so feisty, so fiery. demanding answers, demanding honesty. where was your honesty? take and take but you don’t stop to look in the damn mirror and see the crap you reflect. be mad, be pist. i don’t give a damn anymore.
so fiesty, so fiery. demaning answers, demaning honesty. where was your honesty? take and take but you don't fucking stop to look in the goddamn mirror and see the bullshit you reflect. be mad, be pist. i don't give a damn anymore.
"Catch!" I say throwing a pillow at you. You add it to the dozens of pillows already spread out. I take a step back taking in our work. "This is the best fort I've seen if I do say so myself." I say. And you walk next to me to take it in. You nod in agreement. I turn and look at you smiling with a little mischief. "What?" you ask and before you can read my mind I tackle you onto the fluffy fort we've built. I kiss you once then twice as we snuggle deeper into our new sanctuary.
Speaking... do you know what spoken words could do? The simple act of speaking.. of expressing the things in your head would alleviate all the doubt and confusion revolving in my head. Just one sentence, one word, one sound that's all I ask of you. Say something!
The centerpiece shattered into pieces. She turned to look at me, "Do you see?" My hands shook. I looked at the floor and at my hands. My anger had gotten the best of me again. She was right. I'd lost control.
The trails lead into the fog I look back wondering if this was a good idea. I take a step backwards. "Coward" I tell myself. I take a step forward. Then another. You either go in now or you live wondering what might be on the otherside. I walk on into the fog.
It had been eleven weeks. Eleven weeks since I'd last seen her. Time passes a lot slower when you miss someone. Days and nights begin to blur. Eleven weeks. Soon eleven months and then I'd begin to forget her face.
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writing since 2014 · 11 entries · 10 days shown up
each square is a day—lit means Cx showed up.
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the words Cx reaches for
elevenhonestystepstopdamntransformbeginfogwonderingwalkhandsbestspeakingheadfortfiery