Monday, January 17, 2011

i cant stop thinking of the way she said the word chorizo.
or her faux-shocked "What?!" face.
i cant stop thinking about how she and i would hold hands and alternate squeezing rhythms back and forth.
or how i told her once that i couldn't ever hold her closely enough.

my brain keeps remembering how she said she would be there for me forever.
and how i believed her.
eventually.
and then again. and again.

this never stops being my fault.
people say that things work out 50/50.
but they dont.
its my fault.

its like in Inception, when you watch the limbo dream world slowly fall to pieces.
my future. imagined.
believed. gone.

no amount of fucking can make this better.
time will heal me.
like a tree half cut down.
gnarled. flawed. rotting from the inside.