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By Courtney Date: 2001 Sep 09 Comment on this Work [[2001.09.09.16.55.24892]] |
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He returned to his split personality, and I returned to my slap from reality, to falling down an elevator shaft. The truth is, I like the evidence of love between people. I know there are those who thrive on being alone, but how? How, when they know the cereal box will empty only when they finish it; when they walk into a house where, rather than evidence of life lived together, there is only the quiet imprint of one? I have blonde hair, I am left-handed, I can curl my tongue, and I must have someone to love. So here I stood again, arguing over this feeling I have, why? There, in the center of my chest, a splitting feeling so strong I wonder if something has really split. So, I look at him. This man whose the very reason my tears are more real than I am, so he misses me? "What do you miss exactly?" Smiles, "I miss everything. The way you're always there for me, the way you never give me a hard time, How routine we've become." HOW ABOUT THIS? THE WAY YOU'RE SHOES ARE ALWAYS UNTIED, THE WAY YOU CRY OVER KIDS SELLING CANDY BARS ON A STREET CORNER, THE FRECKLES UNDER YOUR EYES? I felt it. A deep sense that if I took one step further towards him, I would fall off a cliff. And I don't know, I still feel made of glass. |