August 12, 2011

  • and the history books forgot about us and the bible didn't mention us... the bible didn't mention us, not even once.

    In the purest corners of my heart I'm still just 18 years old, sitting on the edge of a tiny man-made pond, listening to this song and I can smell the grass, I can hear the birds splashing quietly in the shallow waters. I can see the road that curves around to Lazy River drive. I can see the two story house, the only two story house I've ever lived in. I can see you delicately laid out on my bed, skin so pale the blue veins pumping life through you were easy to see. 

    you are were my sweetest downfall. I loved you first.

    In that room we both were a little bit more innocent than we wanted to admit. I can remember your lips on my skin, the smell of your clothes, the way I used to dream of our own house one day. What I never knew was it was in that room that we began to build our own house of cards... and one by one age would blow a gusty wind of painful truths to knock it down. 

    Now even though I try several times a year, I have to push to even hear your voice for a second on the phone. Sometimes I do try my best and push, push with everything I have left even though it isn't much, and those 31 seconds become an eternity of "how did we get here?" 

    I miss the quiet places inside of myself that you replaced with loud noise all those years ago.