Monday, January 17, 2011

"And she pulled you in, and she bit your lip, and she made you hers"

Dusk and Summer by Dashboard Confessional

I'm in the dead of this winter and I can't seem to find the profound thing to say. And I can't seem to find the profound thing to hear. I'm waiting here like it'll change in the hour, like it'll be different then. Like my heart won't do this sinking thing and I can sing that song with out shaking my head and closing my eyes shut.

And I don't want to stack another weight on top of me at night again. I've been happy and I've been satisfied and I tell myself every day how hard I've worked. And I have. I felt the change in my chest and my eyes. And I can't look at it the same and I can't hear it the same. I worked myself out of it all. I worked myself to find ease and hold on tighter to the things that'll let me breathe.

But days like this happen. I'll accidentally hear a song that means more than I would've ever remembered. And sometimes it rips a little at the seams. And I start to remember the things that wouldn't let me breathe and I quiver at the lips. Then I breathe in the memories and the knowledge that now let me sleep at night. And I start to wonder if it's enough. And I start to wonder if I get to keep this. And I look down at my hands and try to remember how much we are worth. And a blur of my certainty and the uncertainty of the rest of the world reaches up and grabs me down... and just like this feeling in my gut and my throat, I submerge with its murmurs.

ARCHIVE, FUCKERS (for Ace-like purposes)