"Conflict-theories then exhumed..."
Introduction:
"Nothing's so loud as hearing when we lie; the truth is not kind -- and you've said neither am I...but the air outside (so soft) is saying everything..."
Story:
On the fifth day of a surprisingly gentle November, steel-wool clouds broke open like too-ripe fruit and spewed forth cold rain (melted ice borne on blusters) that pattered noiselessly to the half-frozen earth below. The stout and black-skinned tree that for so long boasted sun-splashed boughs and green finery spit gold leaves (curled in around themselves child's fist-like), ruffled stout-dark-body with an unmelodious mutter, and abandoned all hope of sweet summer succor; on top of the tree-talk and inside the rain whispers, arms thought lost encircled not-think-but-feel. "What's the worst thing I could say" metamorphed into "words like violence break the silence" -- and lovelovelove grew tenfold.
We're falling apart to half-time.
End:
On the fifth night of a surprisingly gentle November, steel-wool clouds continued to pour cold contents libation-like while inside a concrete cubicle red-and-yellow lights burned with the intensity of a silver chair's sism oyu olve. And she still didn't know what to do, and the tree still muttered and shook, and the yellow leaves still fell with the rain.
Analysis:
"Wrong way on a one way track...seems like I should be getting somewhere -- but somehow I'm neither here nor there."
Knows a little unsurety creepycreepy like teasing vine-feelings (despite the lack of yellow wallpaper) and little thorns uncurling between the teeth at the slightest hint nothing's okay. Oy. What more is wanted? I'm tired of doing things on my own but if I don't think about the journey then the destination doesn't seem so hard to reach and this time you said I wasn't on my own and I swear I'm making things fine on the inside so that I'll be okay on the outside but it's hard to do with all of this insecurity even though I had none this weekend and --
STOP IT!
"You only see what your eyes want to see --
How can life be what you want it to be
(You're frozen)
When your heart's not open?
Now there's no point in placing the blame,
And you should know I suffer the same...
If I lose you
My heart will be broken."
In addition: "No nourishment, I swear to god!" a querulous cry and then: "for all have sinned and I the worst. Independent, watch me fail; you sleep, I'll weep, and nothingnothingnothingnothingnothingnothingnothing NOTHING nothing nothing NOTHING! Nothing's okay! NOTHING'S not unfine."
"Nothing's so loud as hearing when we lie; the truth is not kind -- and you've said neither am I...but the air outside (so soft) is saying everything..."
Story:
On the fifth day of a surprisingly gentle November, steel-wool clouds broke open like too-ripe fruit and spewed forth cold rain (melted ice borne on blusters) that pattered noiselessly to the half-frozen earth below. The stout and black-skinned tree that for so long boasted sun-splashed boughs and green finery spit gold leaves (curled in around themselves child's fist-like), ruffled stout-dark-body with an unmelodious mutter, and abandoned all hope of sweet summer succor; on top of the tree-talk and inside the rain whispers, arms thought lost encircled not-think-but-feel. "What's the worst thing I could say" metamorphed into "words like violence break the silence" -- and lovelovelove grew tenfold.
We're falling apart to half-time.
End:
On the fifth night of a surprisingly gentle November, steel-wool clouds continued to pour cold contents libation-like while inside a concrete cubicle red-and-yellow lights burned with the intensity of a silver chair's sism oyu olve. And she still didn't know what to do, and the tree still muttered and shook, and the yellow leaves still fell with the rain.
Analysis:
"Wrong way on a one way track...seems like I should be getting somewhere -- but somehow I'm neither here nor there."
Knows a little unsurety creepycreepy like teasing vine-feelings (despite the lack of yellow wallpaper) and little thorns uncurling between the teeth at the slightest hint nothing's okay. Oy. What more is wanted? I'm tired of doing things on my own but if I don't think about the journey then the destination doesn't seem so hard to reach and this time you said I wasn't on my own and I swear I'm making things fine on the inside so that I'll be okay on the outside but it's hard to do with all of this insecurity even though I had none this weekend and --
STOP IT!
"You only see what your eyes want to see --
How can life be what you want it to be
(You're frozen)
When your heart's not open?
Now there's no point in placing the blame,
And you should know I suffer the same...
If I lose you
My heart will be broken."
In addition: "No nourishment, I swear to god!" a querulous cry and then: "for all have sinned and I the worst. Independent, watch me fail; you sleep, I'll weep, and nothingnothingnothingnothingnothingnothingnothing NOTHING nothing nothing NOTHING! Nothing's okay! NOTHING'S not unfine."
posted by Ophelia at 11:12 PM
2 Comments:
You make a tired, mixed up heart bleed in oh such a good way.
You are not alone. I know, at times one most walk the path with out others, but pleas remember, we are here at a moments notice, should you want our help.
Matt
I am about to quote a saying and Matt better not steal my quote again, stealthy little man that he is. Sneakin' in - "Me to" he will say - not this time! I know you're coming, don't try it!
She waits for me, my lady Earth, Smiles and waits and sighs; I'll say her nay, and hide away, Then take her by surprise.
Post a Comment
<< Home