killingmoonx

there are these times when i hear your voice. its always on a busy street or crowded platform and i spin round searching frantically for the source before realising you are gone and there's no getting you back. i missed the last train home. you used to talk with an alcohol laced tongue and co-proxamol glazed eyes. a lethal combination that failed you, always failed you.

those are the nights you can really feel the cold. its not the shivering, goosebumps, chattering teeth cold. its staying awake for hours huddled to one corner of the bed with your arms frozen tight over your heart, terrified it could stop. it reminds you that it's nearing three years to the day and you have forgotten how he smelt. it is the way your stomach drops when you awake to find that you can't remember the way he looked when he slept or the way his eyes glittered when he smiled. you know they glittered, but you just can't picture it anymore, you know?

there are those moments when you touch me and electric shocks run through my legs, i swear. the moments when the whole world seems to just slow down and it's only you, smiling in that dazzling way that you do, such a cliche. then i speak and ruin it. i always ruin it. i can almost see glass cracking as i realise that i've done it again. you run out of patience, of words, of kisses. my heart drops. it takes years of apologies, the amount of times i've said sorry, sorry, sorry baby, sorry. don't worry. don't worry or just no reply at all. what am i even apologizing for? why am i sorry? i've no idea. you just like to hear it. you love knowi

she had wind in her hair and the skyline in her eyes, but she also had dirt in her nails and fire on her tongue, and her liver was slowly rotting away. she opened her eyes as if it required great effort, like getting up after an extremely heavy fall. no one ever noticed the way she gazed at the horizon as if it were an achieveable dream. she would fly there, someday, and nobody would follow and then people would realise and then they'd all be so, so sorry. somebody calls her name and it drags her home. she smiles but it's distant, translucent. a memory she cannot recall. he continues to chat animatedly in her direction, she continues to s

fifteen years later and sometimes, just sometimes, i still wake up screaming.

as you closed your eyes, the tears just poured; spelling out the thousand-and-one words that your heart couldn't bare to say. life carelessly rolled by the window and the train continued to jolt it's way home, but there's no such thing anymore.

it's no coincidence that when i hear your name it brings me all the way home...

as i remember, the soft melodic tune of a distant piano -or maybe something a little heavier. violins?- drifted across the green to where we lay; arms spread wide. our fingers would dig into the vert grass as though we should fall right off the surface of the earth if only we forgot to hold on. sometimes we span so fast, round and round, then fall down. we turned until everyone felt sick and then turned some more. all too happy to care, all too crazy to think. my mind is left, spinning my vision, out of focus. small red marks litter my skin and small red blotches encircle my eyes. the white coats speak to me as if it will all be over soon b

sometimes i come to find that the words i was singing to a particular song have been the wrong ones all along. i continue to babble the incorrect verse anyway, defiantly believing that my mistakes make more sense to the situation at hand. im not whole when you're not here. the sun did not bathe the morning in a beautiful sepia glow and nothing in my being wished that it would. how tragic that the sky should match the concrete of the city on this dull february day. the gloom held such an ache in the pit of my stomach. it's not even as if i miss you, or anyone. who are you? should i put a name to a memory? i'm not even sure there is a memory

let's not pretend that i love you for you, because i'm sure you're sure, we're sure that i don't. i fell in love, that fateful regretful hate-filled night, not with your sunshine smile nor your blue-as-ocean eyes, under the star-filled skies. but the promise of somethinganything that might stop the slow ache that can only come after the crimson spill. you fell hopelessly irrovocably, terribly in love with me. by accident of course. never on purpose, never your fault. then who? who is there to blame? oh, the hopeless restless, heartless drumming of my heart.