YOUR WAY YOUR WAY YOUR WAY
I'll always be this way. "Battered and bruised". I hate the terminology, because I'm not in any way batter nor bruised.
I'm all over the place.
I'm so confused and understimulated, and I've been waiting for a while to be able to break out of the way and in to the pool of what I had always thought up.
I thought up all the wonderful and tragic and the sad and the thing about the whole reality of it is that it isn't true.
It isn't even real.
So why do I even use the word 'reality' to begin with?
It doesn't really matter, it matters what I mean, and in a coy and deceptive way, I convince myself that my intentions are pure evil, and I'm not as bad or shameful or inadequate as I sometimes lead on to be (and this is only a side note to myself, because I never had a thought when it came to you or others).
I was in the middle of a flat out badness, a sadness, when I closed my eyes and saw what I had.
And that was something blue, and something green, and something wooden, and something that I wanted so badly, something I didn't want at all, and something that I could feel again.
I couldn't stop that of which I had started, and I kept going.
I was feeling all the things that I told you on the last day.
And then you said it never happened.
It never happened.
And then you took it back again.
You took it back.
YOu took back what it was that you said that you took back that you had so openly excalaimed to me in the first place.
And then you apologized.
I was angry for a while.
I was gone for a while.
THen I was just okay.
I've had to rethink everything that I said.
I guess I miss you.
You said you missed me too.
I guess I can't really go on what anyone says.
I can't go on what I say.
And so I guess words don't mean anything to me.
Except they mean everything...
I'm all over the place.
I'm so confused and understimulated, and I've been waiting for a while to be able to break out of the way and in to the pool of what I had always thought up.
I thought up all the wonderful and tragic and the sad and the thing about the whole reality of it is that it isn't true.
It isn't even real.
So why do I even use the word 'reality' to begin with?
It doesn't really matter, it matters what I mean, and in a coy and deceptive way, I convince myself that my intentions are pure evil, and I'm not as bad or shameful or inadequate as I sometimes lead on to be (and this is only a side note to myself, because I never had a thought when it came to you or others).
I was in the middle of a flat out badness, a sadness, when I closed my eyes and saw what I had.
And that was something blue, and something green, and something wooden, and something that I wanted so badly, something I didn't want at all, and something that I could feel again.
I couldn't stop that of which I had started, and I kept going.
I was feeling all the things that I told you on the last day.
And then you said it never happened.
It never happened.
And then you took it back again.
You took it back.
YOu took back what it was that you said that you took back that you had so openly excalaimed to me in the first place.
And then you apologized.
I was angry for a while.
I was gone for a while.
THen I was just okay.
I've had to rethink everything that I said.
I guess I miss you.
You said you missed me too.
I guess I can't really go on what anyone says.
I can't go on what I say.
And so I guess words don't mean anything to me.
Except they mean everything...
2 Comments:
I don't want to be a bother or anything but you know you can call me if you want to talk. I was planning on just avoiding but I've come to realize that I'm being totally stupid, I thought I could forget everthing but thats just retarded, I have to go right now but know that I still care for you.
I really want to call and talk to you but don't have a number so hit me up if you want to chat a bit.
I can't forget.
Later
Matt Bennett
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