Placebo
In so many ways.
Two beers were too much for my heart this afternoon. Highs and lows.
But it's cracked in so many places. I cradle it in my palms like an injured bird but I always always do more harm than good. Lost without a clue.
Why is the measure of love loss?
Today was achingly bright. Lights over Perth so perfect work felt like an afterthought. Light got under my skin. You got under my skin.
And now, in my room, in my little bubble (because i have to make one when no one else will. I learned that lesson in the first perfect year in Freo) and the evening light kisses the buildings pink and I feel how lucky i am to live here. But there is so much silence still. Silence that I steadfastly believed in. Silence I moved to Duncraig for. To belong. To have a quiet suburban life. What has suburbia given me?
And this city-cradle? It swings.
Who would you walk off the map for? Sarah and I had this conversation yesterday and it's a very short list.
"I'm sorry that I left you
with your questions all alone
but i was too happy driving
and too angry to drive home..."
Dar Williams also wrote a "Spring Street"...
never make amends.... here's a rapid topic change.
Peter and Betty: how does one break up with friends? Where did the original love go?
And how do I explain that they have become poisonous to me? Should I suck it up and be there for her when things topple? I've lost the energy. The energy was there for a fucking decade and I don't have the strength anymore. What then kills love? Only this: neglect.
Rather than go karting tonight, I'd like to curl around and listen to something to Dean Martin - the voice I feel inside my collarbone. Your smell caught in my throat and long desired, the shape of your face.
I somehow returned to Southwood Lane today - spitting cherry stones with Sah and there the film runs behind my forehead.
Okay. things shift. and every listen of Insomnia won't make my skin prickle, but tonight it has. So out into the night, to drive fake cars around a fake concourse and tomorrow, a fresh day. Lucid and hopefully true.
Two beers were too much for my heart this afternoon. Highs and lows.
But it's cracked in so many places. I cradle it in my palms like an injured bird but I always always do more harm than good. Lost without a clue.
Why is the measure of love loss?
Today was achingly bright. Lights over Perth so perfect work felt like an afterthought. Light got under my skin. You got under my skin.
And now, in my room, in my little bubble (because i have to make one when no one else will. I learned that lesson in the first perfect year in Freo) and the evening light kisses the buildings pink and I feel how lucky i am to live here. But there is so much silence still. Silence that I steadfastly believed in. Silence I moved to Duncraig for. To belong. To have a quiet suburban life. What has suburbia given me?
And this city-cradle? It swings.
Who would you walk off the map for? Sarah and I had this conversation yesterday and it's a very short list.
"I'm sorry that I left you
with your questions all alone
but i was too happy driving
and too angry to drive home..."
Dar Williams also wrote a "Spring Street"...
never make amends.... here's a rapid topic change.
Peter and Betty: how does one break up with friends? Where did the original love go?
And how do I explain that they have become poisonous to me? Should I suck it up and be there for her when things topple? I've lost the energy. The energy was there for a fucking decade and I don't have the strength anymore. What then kills love? Only this: neglect.
Rather than go karting tonight, I'd like to curl around and listen to something to Dean Martin - the voice I feel inside my collarbone. Your smell caught in my throat and long desired, the shape of your face.
I somehow returned to Southwood Lane today - spitting cherry stones with Sah and there the film runs behind my forehead.
Okay. things shift. and every listen of Insomnia won't make my skin prickle, but tonight it has. So out into the night, to drive fake cars around a fake concourse and tomorrow, a fresh day. Lucid and hopefully true.
posted by BanAnna at 9/23/2011 03:20:00 am
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