Years on end, society has had the obnoxious, in-your-face, insufferable (actually quite sufferable, but you know what I mean) nerve to ask the same age-old test-of-time-defying question: how are you holding up? Well, frankly dear, do you even want the carefully scripted, societally appropriate answer honed to accomplish both our needs, or can I kill off both our hopes and dreams of inner peace and can I really tell you that upon your encounter I was suddenly re-fabricated as a heap of trash slugging through the Hudson, and you, lovely, may have drug me out before reaching bigger and better things.
Should I assume all that is done, sweetheart?
Because if I were to be this so-called honest, if I were to tell you how I was “holding up,” I’d have to begin by explaining the context: include the immediate scenery, the slant of the graffiti, the blood alcohol content of the nearest sophomore, the ins and outs of weaving in and out of traffic and so on. Now acknowledge this and absorb the deeper level that is infiltrating your thinking- keeps you from holding up, so to speak. Because you may as well blame, if you’re really into blaming such innocuous factors, such as the nitrogen content in the atmosphere, or the rate of dying from secondhand smoke in the US versus…….Narnia, I suppose.
I really want to be honest, I want to share if I even am holding anything at all, or may need assistance in doing so, but it is against social norms as of now, my sweetest. You are not the tip of the iceberg, dear, you are the scorching sun; you are not thirst, darling, you are just not water; and you are not any kind of life preserver, beloved, and you are not holding me up.
dependence
Ten Years And A Night
“Ten years,” I gulp, kind of dreading it myself. “I want to see you again in ten years. If we’re still miserable, we’ll be miserable together. But you should probably see if you can be happy without me first.” Dan wipes wet crap off my cheek. Shit. Then he’ll know he can be happy without me, I remind nyself. And I think that’s what I want.
He blows air out his mouth hard, “Ten’s a big number. I don’t want to wait that long. How about five?”
“Don’t try to talk me down like that. In ten years we’ll be different, everything will be different, and maybe we’ll both still be here. It’ll be okay.”
Dan whimpers, “You don’t know that, Annie. We could both be dead tomorrow. Gone. Out. No ten years. Nothing.” He says in a soft voice, a soft satin voice begging.
“I could never have you then, Annie.” He holds me soft by the waist, securing me. “So I’m gonna kiss you and you’re just going to have to deal with it. If you want me to go after, I will. I swear.”
I’m Usually The One Keeping Promises Around Here
Well, fine
Freefall if you
Need to
When have I
Not been there
To catch you?
I mean, I’ve never been your
Mother bird but you’ve
Realized you have wings as well
As feet, correct?
Record This #6
Well, see dear it’s
Not quite all that simple
I’m afraid all this
Holding back and
Letting go
Business
We hurt each other
We may very well hate each other
For awhile
But we’re unfortunately not in a good state to get rid of one another
So we hold back, we do
It’s all we do
All we ever did
Why we never were in the first place
If we ever were
Record This #5
I want the world to be some
Place I can finally call
Home it doesn’t have to be all that pretty
If it could just not bite at me
It seems like every day
Now I’m scared to close my eyes
I might not wake up but then
That might not be so bad
People might even be sad
I just need one person to get me through every day
Everyone knows what I mean
Whether it’s her or him or anything
My, how you are lovely.
Why We’re Good Friends
Take a little bit of me to
Offset all the
Cyanide you drank
And I just gotta know
If we were to go
And set all the love slaves free
Would you run with me?
Let's just be honest
With all the heart lines gone to test
Sometimes the edge of the cliff
Is your best friend
Housing In Purgatory- A Blog 