kb11
My mind is like a maze, and I'm lost. Someone stole my map along the way and I can't remember the way back home. If i take your hand will you promise to lead me to safety?
It hit me, like a slap to the face. What I was doing wasn't right. It was logical and it damn well wasn't the Christian way. Sometimes conviction hurts.
I wish you had held on a little tighter. Or maybe if I had let you go a little more we wouldn't be here now. But we are, and I have no choice but to speak to you through letters you'll never read and words you'll never hear.
Can you define insanity for me? Performing the same act over and over while expecting a different result. Call me crazy but I want to give this one more try.
A smile fixes everything. What else is there to say? Brighten a day, maybe change a mood. Go ahead, smile. It won't kill you. :)
Chase loved trains. He wanted to grow up to be a conductor. His room was filled with models and pictures, it was all his mom talked about. We went camping once and threw rocks in the river until dinner time. It's funny, the things you remember about people, the pure innocence of a child wanting nothing more than to drive a train for the rest of his life. It's comforting, and a bit sad. Eventually that little boy will grow up into a man and think that trains are stupid. By then I won't know him at all, and the trains and the river will only be a memory to us.
He leaned over to change the station, but he couldn't. Turns out, life isn't a radio. You can't turn it when you don't like the song. You're stuck listening to the same crap day in and day out. And you've got two choices; sing along, or turn the damn thing off and block out all the noise. The second one isn't so easy, it tends to get messy. Lucky for him he had a plan, he'd leave his mess at the bottom of a bridge. Let the river clean up after him.
I tried to not love you. I tried really hard. But then you came back, just in time to step onto a plane so you can take your beloved gun and fight for the"freedom" we were promised. I only have one request. Love me like you swore you would, or grant me my freedom and please let me have my heart back. I'm sick of writing about you, please just let me have a new topic.
I had repressed it all to the point where it was bearable. I was slowly forgetting the way you made me feel, that ring on my finger and the way you tasted. I had managed to convinve myself that it would be better this way, that once you left I could move on for good. But then you came back, and you wanted my help. Who was I to say no? So we talked, and I helped, and you said all the wrong words and made me realize that forgetting true love wouldn't be as simple as I thought.
Masks, hidden behind painted faces. Don't show them how you really feel. Keep yourself closed off, like a book that has been shut. Slam the door to your past, that's not who you are anymore. Paint on a calm face, don't let him see the truth. He's not supposed to be a part of this new future. Why can't you just say no?
When we met I felt the universe slip. A montage of my life flashed before my eyes. The good, the bad, the secrets I keep hidden away, I saw it all in one single flash. As we spoke I could hear my sensible side telling me to run, too bad I never listened. Now I have new images running through my mind, a black and white movie reel that never seems to end. And you are my leading man.
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writing since 1969 · 37 entries · 36 days shown up
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