ODE TO SHAWN
you used to sing to me sometimes. now you only wonder when i cringe. what have they told you about me, now? does it bother you? have you given up on me? and you wonder when i back away.
you wonder, you wonder, you wonder...
i see your pain. i would do anything to ease it. but you won't let me near.
it's over.
i'm sorry, for what it's worth. not much, i suppose. i'm a liar and a theif and i can't find that flannel anywhere. i remember that day. i remember the park. i remember your bad driving. you've gotten better, by the way.
understand, i'm not angry with you, just a little afraid. mainly of what they've told you and how you'll react and all the anger that boils up inside when i think about it.
i've noticed... everyone always goes back to their first love. was i really that young? this same time last year... i don't know what to do, now.
is that what this is... some demented form of that thing they call love? do i even beleive in that?
listening to pink floyd and missing you and missing you. i've loved and lost and lost and lost and hated and hated then yawned and rolled over to go back to sleep. am i rambling? i don't care anymore.
how can i express what i feel? and does it even matter?
i don't even like you, anymore. not even in the slightest. you've been slightly unpleasant and cold towards me, shown absolutely no interest in communicating with me in any way unless lindsey is around, and frankly there's no hope in a relationship with you. or wanting a relationship with you. it pisses me off. i get very mad, at myself mostly, but at you as well.
is it wrong to hate one's self???
the point:
it doesn't matter if i enjoy you or not. there's a larger, meaner, harder beast at work. it won't let go. love love love love LOVE... i don't even beleive, but there's something there and what am i to call it but "love"?
perhaps i'll name it Memories... or Desperate... or Lonely, the Unbearable.
yes, that's it! i'm simply lonely, and therefore turning to the happy memories of the past and recalling the emotion i felt back then.
when i felt, back then.
yes, that's it! it's only lonely... just lonely... just cold and lonely and cold and cold and cold and cold and cold...
concluding statement:
i'm ok. don't worry about it. give me your fucking e-mail adress before i strangle you to death and claw your eyes out.
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