Ran across this while cleaning up my room. NO memory of writing it and no date. My mother would be so disappointed. ;p
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As I watch them appear--unbidden to the screen--they mock me. The words I can never say. With their mere existence they spite me. The beauty and fragility of their phrasing a mourning of the feelings they describe. Feelings that can never be. Feelings that will forever remain unsatisfied, unrequited, unconsumed, buried. He stands fresh in my mind untouched, forever untouched, the stench of missed opportunity and serendipitous revenge flowing out of him like poison. I resent myself for assuming I could resist, for not preparing myself for the temptation that would live in him, for taking it all so fucking lightly. How dare you steal my heart without ever realizing you'd already broken it?
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It's weird, because I KNOW I didn't write it recently, yet it totally works for my current situation. So, yeah. That's odd. I wonder who the hell this was about? Was it even about anyone? Was it just me in my people watching finding some lonesome look on the face of some girl? I'll never know. Most of the time I hate my own work, so this whole no memory thing is kind of great, seeing as how I actually find the thing tragically beautiful. The things you find when you clean up your space!
