Stream Of Consciousness

by writersxblock   Apr 26, 2010

It isn't special. a sick and twisted stanza if you will. love.
nothing but glass beads and cheap underwear. it's anything to make you believe.
anything to keep you around.
with nights of begging and your bloody noses.
this i promise is nothing new.
heartbreaker is what i am now.
welcome to my title because now i have to live with it.
and you had me going with all or nothing and you told me to do or die.
well the jokes on me. laugh it off as you will, while i sit in the dim light of my room.
put on my black dress while trying to forget, i was dressed to impress.
well they say it takes a liar to know a liar.
and every angle of your prism room i know like the back of my hand.
it would have been more than special.
but regret wouldn't cease to haunt me.
so i could light a candle, and i could hold my breath.
nothing but steak goes with red wine.
passion is not what they believe it to be.
street lights outside and cool air in your room.
well the food network is no match for a broken heart.
and the flickering tv is no place for your problems.
nothing like it, you said.
money can't buy happiness.
i know how much you would like to forget.
empty words, or nothing at all.
no sleep. coffee. drink it black, because the sugar is just to much.
we ate sushi and you laid me back to sleep and tried your hardest.
you keep yourself healthy but your too far gone.
and i bet you wish you were different and i bet you wish you were happy. and i bet i cry tonight.
and the sick things you've done and the posters in your room and how should i feel now?
and when did i equal perfection.
in fact, im unjust and imperfect.
there is no resolution here. not in me heart nor the photos you wont let me take.
and not in anyone else.
i wish i could just forget.


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