| higher. cheaper. faster.
harder.
rusty pink scaffolding. alert. you are walking on a bridge over a brook, over movement, over rocks. there are no tall buildings lurking behind trees. airplanes poke holes in glutton clouds before they burst and make everything stick.
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| maybe someday you'll be able to forgive me. for sucking at love.
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| how absent i have been.
'regret' is a word i banished from my vocabulary years ago.
so i feel nothing.
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| today the world is a film directed just for me.
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| what is love if we can only love when it's convenient?
if we can't love our enemies, are we really capable of loving at all?
i hear a lot of the same thing said in a different way.
and i'm never quite sure how gullible is too gullible.
i let myself entertain the thought that maybe you'd surprise me, that the last few weeks have just been a terrible joke and that tonight, you'd deliver its punchline; so that we could laugh, so that i could laugh, and breathe a huge sigh of relief.
but i am neither laughing, nor breathing.
there is no punchline, no drum cadence.
i am foolish. i know this. i've always known this.
and your ghost is rubbing it in my face tonight.
you were the last person i thought could expose me like this.
and of course, this means that you were most likely to be the first.
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