Index - Profile - Archives - Notes - DiaryLand - Random ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- No. Really. No, really. If it's easier for you, pretend I'm ugly. It will be easier for me. I can tell you. I will make pretty for everyone, always. I need the assurance this affords me. Fuck. If it's easier for you, pretend everything that goes unsaid has never been thought. Pretend. (I guess this means I'm back? Are you still there? I'd love you say I missed you. I didn't. You personify a spiral I've seen coming for months, I just... didn't time it right? And if I love you and hate you, it's all the same, so long as I can string words on copper thread, we're safely apart.) We can play the what if game. It's fun, to break each other's hearts over again. I can keep you from sleep, as I have done for weeks. I can be the excuse, I can be the reason. I can be the guilt, it fits me, I've worn it for years. What kind of disclaimer do you put on this? I will give this to you. You will run out of words. We will sit still, and I would see a blinking cursor, if they had made that (fucking alternate world). This is the culmination. This is the typo. This is the fruedian slip, slip of the tongue, slip of the rules I so carefully constructed to save me from this. It's like we went on one date and then got married. You will correct me. /pat 1:18 p.m. - 2005-09-02 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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