Untitled
- Jan 8, 2005
My neck sort of hurts from being so hunched over.
I don't know what it is about being alone all day,
but I feel like this is it.
Like everything happened just to bring me to this moment...(yah right.)
This morning we woke
and I clung onto you like I
was hanging on for dear life.
Dear life.
I can never sleep after you have left the bed.
It's as though my eyes are pinned open -
gasping for breath.
Waiting -
for me to just roll out
and float back down again.
But spending a day on this earth
with only my thoughts
in my head
seems so futile
and sad.
I don't know what I'm going to say when I go home.
There is this tightness in my throat
and friction all over these words
and I can't seem to figure out
why I feel so sick all the time
It feels like there is metal in all of my limbs.
Because I
Fuck.
I don't want to go home.
I don't want to see your face.
In pictures.
Or in person.
But I want to hold you
and help you
and fight for you
and save you -
For you.
Because you have painfully sad eyes.
And I think I'm growing into them.
They are the colour of earth.
The colour of life.
They are mine too.
You don't even see how hard I am trying to stay on my own two feet everyday.
You don't even see that.
You don't even try -
and it's making me sad.
© 2007 Victoria Rohac