Maybe I see you.
Maybe you'd see me, too. If only you would look.
I don't want to say anything because you mean well, but dammit, I want to say
everything because I don't know what else to do, how else to smile.
What happens if you're hungry but aren't, if you're tired as hell but can't get a fricking moment of rest unless you're on your way somewhere, unless you're sure you have a destination in mind? In cases like that the thought doesn't seem to count for much, even if I wished to jack it would.
Right now I want to: curl up under a blanket and ignore my frozen toes, try to remove the chill from my hands, make my eyes stop welling up, and
sleep. With a bucket nearby. In case, you know, I decide to just throw the f*ck up already.
Swearing doesn't make me feel any better either. But there's no other way to say that.
Maybe I'd feel better if only I would let myself. If I would tell you and get it over with. If I never told you and got over myself. It doesn't seem possible.
Do you notice? Do you ever - when you can't see me, when you only have my words to go by?
Do you even know for absolutelycertainlysure who you are I'm talking about?
Whatever. Whatever, whatever,
whatever. Two weeks from now, it won't matter. Hardly changes anything, even now. Except for my appetite and blah. But who cares.
Yesterday I lost a small something I barely even noticed I had. It was on the bed, something that definitely didn't belong there. I put it in my pocket for safe-keeping, but it wasn't there when I wanted to look at it. So I spent the morning searching for it, lifting pillows and bags when I didn't even care for it before.
It turned up hours later, when I wasn't looking for it. Of course it was in my pocket, right where I had placed it.
Of course.At once I felt grateful and stupid. Things like that happen, right? We misplace, don't search well enough, ignore what we don't want to see. It's easy. It's sometimes all we can do.
After forever, will I be where I was before I lost myself into you?
That small something is now in a safe place, but not where it belongs. It won't be where it has to be till I stick it on again. Not too difficult a task, but you'd be amazed how much time that can take -
if it gets seen to at all. Or maybe you wouldn't be at all surprised.
I don't know if I want to know.
Maybe I'll stay right where everything leaves me.
My schedule sticks it's tongue out at me and makes me feel stupid.
Tags: dreams, thoughts, writings
somewhere: Tita Bel's
imaru go:
blah
tuned in to: --