kerry (makethiscount) wrote,

  • Music:


 "i could do this forever," i tell the words. won't you get tired? the answer is yes, very tired. we will lose meaning on the way, we will become gibberish. we will not fit in stories or poems, but stand alone on stray lines. we will be lonely and no one will love us. few speak this language, i hear it in my sleep. 

but no matter,

it is time to feel blood flowing. this is the time to breathe. 

the same reason you stay with that lover that rips your heart out with their own hands over and over again is the same reason i write these words down. it is not a thing i can just stop. it is a thing that when words press their body on mine i cannot keep my hands down. my hands insisting on reaching the curves of "c"'s and the hips of "s". when they tell me pretty things i am astounded, i can't ignore this. and when we kiss, it is the loss of air they spell out; so that my heart feels like falling and rising coinciding, at the same time. i have faith in words like religions. they are always prayers, something beautiful, watching a regular child using sign language for handicapped parents. and what do i mean the holy spirit comes through me? i mean this. 

it is recurrent. 

put some words on me, i told her. right away.

but no matter,

the time has not called us there.

later, she says. 

"spoon feed me sentences" i am begging her. her eyes are heavy, it hurts to stay open. 

why don't you sleep, i whisper.

she is already there.

i write her a letter--- 

"you know where i am, which is almost like who i am but remembering how the outside changes me.

you know the way to get there, and how to get so lost.

why can't something not true be beautiful?

it is like you knew me before i was born. "

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