the hair that i’m out of – 4/2/12

4/2/12 8am – 4/2/12 8:46am

the hair that i’m out of
(erases duets)

the coldest i’d ever been in six years at that moment.
what difference would it make?
did i try hard enough to stop her?
is the blood on my hands now?
she wants to not be with me and eat me too.
throw away her cake and eat it too.
who will groom me in your absense?
i already look more forward to the words i will write if we get back together.
there is no way to even know if she wishes to speak with me.
i thought yesterday was a good day, but i guess you did not.
in my head I heard a harmony, but I did not sing aloud.
there was no one to accompany me.
on the brightside food costs half as much now..
there’s something to be said about a person who walks away, but they are never there to hear it.
of course it’s raining; now i have to worry about her driving when she just escaped me.

erases duets

yes, i have felt the way she has before, but it never plays out the way you think it would.
i don’t want to have to explain or talk about this with anyone.
how do i keep to myself though?
i’ve been robbed of any chance I had at a normal day.
i hope that this is the right thing for her.
i hate the idea of ending on good terms.
i want to say that she will come into my job later and we will talk until all’s forgotten, but i’m not sure if that’s a reality.
it is so weird to think what a nights rest can change in people.
my partner has died, but haunts me.
to think of the others who might try to have me believe they are you.
those before me seem now nothing compared to those after me.
i will wear myself the same as the day before to show myself that this day is no different from the past.
my body nearly shutdown for a minute there.
and yet she’s gone, but her jewelry remains.
metals that mean something now meant something.
i can’t even imagine you trying to rid the thought of me.
it kills me to think you could escape from the reminders of me.
it scares me to think i couldn’t do the same.
all of this is you; i can’t say that i’ve built even  a single brick on my own.
will it all have to be broken down?
who will i become? do i have a choice in meeting him?
caught off guard
have i ruined myself?
running through scenarios makes me the most sad.
i’m not sure why the fiction is worse than the simple reality.
i couldn’t even smell the weather change.
i don’t hear harmonies very often as of late.
it’s gross that i look forward to hearing the songs you will write.
let me tell you something you know:

the hair that i’m out of
thin air it came out of