eavesdropping and laughing to my hands.
Tuesday, Aug. 05, 2003
it's come to this?i'm tearing off small sections of skin, peeling it back and around the curve of each of my joints each time i think of you. i'll sit and just watch the blood bead up through the tissue, dyeing everything red with no embellishment and little consistency. my tears welling up and silently gracing the side of my face when i hear your name. or maybe i'll just drown in metaphors, claiming elaborate martyrdom until someone pays attention. either way, see how i'm punishing myself for everything you did?
my own responsibility is melting away in my hands, and soon it will only resemble blame. it's all your fault, right?
