Sunday, February 15, 2009

She's Gonna Teach Me How To Swim

Or not.
I'm aquaphobic.

Dear xxx,
Here we go again. Awkward silences fill the space between us, the space behind us and the space all around us. You know I hate that. You know I hate it most when you don't speak at all, which is all the time.

What can I say to you? I always fuck up. If I say something real, you'll push me away. If I don't say anything at all, you'll think I'm angry at you. Or sad. Or whatever I'm not feeling!

What can I say to make you speak? You have no mouth, yet again you do. Use it! My mind is crying, my brain is crying, my heart is sinking. My heart finds the base of my pelvis bone, it pushes up all my guts to the pit of my throat. I want to vomit.

I want to write a letter to you, addressed to just you. Not some alter-ego name used on a blog I know you're never going to read. Read me!

A year is coming to a close; an eclipse, a revolution.
But you're neither friend nor foe... Seeing you was like taking a bullet.

Gravity by Sara Bareilles.

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