Held Responsible

"...she fell in love in the first place."

It's the general motif, don't you think?




I'd been falling, but I had never seen it happen. My tuning for self awareness had been off. I had given up before I even found where it was I had even left off. There are no specifics, no correct space. I can see myself falling for some false intentions of meaning.
"For the life of me, I cannot remember why we'd ever die for these sins..."
There is this darkened area about my anatomy I do not even recognize sometimes.
"We never talk of our lack in relationships."
I cannot even get the correct, simple aesthetic of the fundaments of my heart. I've grown acquired to the ones that go higher, then expire.
I am going crazy over nothing because that is what has always gotten to me all this time: NOTHING.
You are not the only one who has been shot down and attacked.
I hope that you find compassion and forgiveness, and I hope that you are aware of your inside demons. I hope that you hold things frustratingly dear. I hope that you let someone in with you, and I hope that they mean everything to you. I don't mean just the words, I want someone to take all of you and that they consume you in every lovely way that they could.
I'm splattered about the walls, but "the talk" never came. You cannot unlearn things.
I give myself restrictions that I do not follow, rules that I always break, and maps that I never use.
Just care! Just try! Just want to know me! Just tell me!
Just...just something.
It's simply pathetic because you don't have to mean it.
Just nothing.

I am crying all alone in my car after he hung up, and hung up.
Sometimes, when I cry, I wish that he could see it. I do not really know if it would mean anything. It isn't my vanity that drives that. Maybe I'm too detached.
Your exaggerated display of testosterone kills me. It doesn't make sense. It's defected and it's counterproductive.
Your narcissism! It screams, demanding everything of me, and I am tired. (There is a difference between being simply nice and being sincere.) You justify your crassness by loving me. Your insensitivity is biting, and it's biting deep. This degeneration of me that you thought you had scares you. It never existed!
But there I go just to acquiesce to all of you and what you have to say, no matter how much I don't want to...no matter how much I hate it. I try to ignore the more ignorant of thought, but it makes sense.
I've tried to reinforce this idea, this sense of security and of love, but I will not try to convince you of it. That is enough shock impact for me if you do not believe any of what I say, or if you lack the feeling of it all.
I have a sensitive and nostalgic nature, while you have impeccable taste and a drive to be heard.
It's quaking beneath our feet and it seems we're only shoving ourselves in the cracks.
I'm an advocate for us and our success. There comes a time when this either breaks or makes a person. How much can you handle?
You will see this again. We'll feel it, and it'll hurt all over again, and I'll hate it and you'll fight it and we'll try again.
But I've loved you since that year in July, and that sort of thing cannot happen the way that it did again.

"You're all I want. You're all I need. You're everything. Everything. And how can I stand here with you and not be moved by you? Would you tell me how could it be any better than this..."





It's in the stars, and it's in the light, it's written on the table, and in your hands and I'll have to remember: there are things that never change and things that always will.