Story, storyToday, I have decided, everything is wrong. The weather is too dreadful, the milk is too cold, and the clothing with that new starch that I recently bought is too itchy. What am I to do?
My sister has told me that the best idea of all would be for me to get a life; and stop making huge events of everything that happens during my days, and my days, and my days. Yes, I have pulled upon my shoulders that many days; although I am only twenty two I feel as though I have lived through enough. Perhaps, my last day has come. Perhaps tomorrow, I will hang myself. But dont listen to me; I barely ever follow through with plans that I make for tomorrow or perhaps in twenty years. Do not bring upon me countless questions about whatever plans I may have made for twenty years time because I cannot recall ever making any; it was merely an example of my subjection towards keeping any plans.
The mere sight of today has put me into a drab mood. I open my curtains and expect something magical to be
day.We sat on the wall holding hands.
It felt pleasant and I felt better than
I have in a long time.
We talked about grass, and the future.
I got you to climb on my back
and I carried you down the path
and then you did the same with me
and I got scared and you had to put me down
and then I hit you playfully and told you
that youre beautiful
because you are.
People stared but we dont care
because really its only the two of us
there. Ive never smiled so much
in my life.
I kissed you till my lips were sore
and then I kissed you some more
and some more and then i tickled
you and you laughed.
We took ten thousand photographs
and then looked back at them
both groaning at our own appearances
and I shhhed you.
I took ten thousand more photographs
of just you, and you were awkward
and didnt know where to look
and I kept shouting be natural!
We waiting ages for the bus and it was
really cold and you shuddered
so I hugged you really tight and it was
You were never.I realise now
that you were both exactly
like each other.
Although you despised
I grew sick
of your armoured chest
although later I learned
it was really only
thick, burnt lungs
You let me think
you were so strong
with that box of lies
you left with me. Fake
tears and desperately
Im done with
what you gave me now.
The pictures have been
with a new face.
I think about you
now and then
I know that you dont
think about me.