You Are Only Misunderstood When You Don't Help Me Understand
Sometimes, it's fun to role-play. Fun to sit with them and act as if you are one of them; as innocent, unaware, and secure. Because I see her sitting, I think she's talking about hair brushes, and all the while she's wanting nothing more but to hug that guy or something. I don't know, it confuses me. Behind me, the crazy couple are setting off fireworks in the middle of the road, and earlier she was worried about her religious beliefs and his, but for one reason or another, it just doesn't matter to her at that point in time. Or maybe it was bothering her, I couldn't really tell you, but she seemed jolly just as well. I slapped my forehead today (theoretically, but I would have had I not been in a car jammed with ten extra bodies) because I realized how I regretted all of that. Remember when we did all those things? "And I'll never regret these years." I do. But that's okay, makes you interesting, those regretful things, I guess.
Cut the fancy lingo and talk to me like a person, you ain't no poet.
We're not real, you know. You say things like 'love' but I don't know what you really mean. I say it too, and I mean it, and I feel guilty for meaning it. Why? Because it's unrealistic. And I guess it takes time to know why things happen as they do, but I'm starting to understand. I'm fine with it, the people on the outside have negative things to say, but don't "they" always? Makes me kind of laugh, until I actually see them. Then, I usually cry or something melodramatic.
Cut the fancy lingo and talk to me like a person, you ain't no poet.
We're not real, you know. You say things like 'love' but I don't know what you really mean. I say it too, and I mean it, and I feel guilty for meaning it. Why? Because it's unrealistic. And I guess it takes time to know why things happen as they do, but I'm starting to understand. I'm fine with it, the people on the outside have negative things to say, but don't "they" always? Makes me kind of laugh, until I actually see them. Then, I usually cry or something melodramatic.
posted by Sarah at 10:04 AM
2 Comments:
I'm saying you've already done plenty of things to regret, you just don't know what they are. It's when you discover them, when you see the folly in something you've done, and you wish that you had it do over, but you know you can't, because it's too late. So you pick that thing up, and carry it with you to remind you that life goes on, the world will spin without you, you really don't matter in the end. Then you will gain character, because honesty will reach out from inside and tattoo itself across your face.
You, my delightful poet, have character strewn throughout your words. And I am still fascinated by your reality, and your knowledge of the fact that YOU, at least, are real.
Love and guilt are lovers, with regret being the sometimes third in the threesome, sometimes other woman in the divorce.
I first thought the first part was about me....the hairbrush thing. Now I'm not too sure. Oh Sarah Green.....I guess this is why I love you. :)
Post a Comment
<< Home