Saturday, October 30, 2010

Open Letter to Myself

You got what you wanted. You stumbled home drunk and it was cold. Why is that a thing that you wanted. You were alone. You were walking with a ghost who's not coming back. You lay on the bed and your head spun and your ears rang and your heart burst but mostly you did not feel because you had drank too much. And it reminded you of other nights in another city where things were softer. And you said to yourself why did you do that. And you said to yourself, to make it hurt. Because you're a masochist. Because you're crazy. Because there's something wrong with you. Your mind is on fire.

Put it out, put it out. Don't ever put out the fire in your heart.

You got what you wanted. You wandered towards the moon. You wandered towards the cross on top of the mountain which never got any closer. You never got closer to anything. You never figured yourself out. Instead you trapped yourself inside a box and now you're stuck. And you wake up and you don't know where you are.

You're drunk all the time. You're not even a person sometimes. You're a shadow. You're the moon which never gets closer to anyone. You just run away all the goddamn time. Half of your christmas lights don't light up and you don't know how to fix that. And what about your inability to glue even the largest of broken pieces back together.

Why did you make the choices that you made. You got everything you wanted and you're still let down. Why do you live here. And what if you could have someone here right now beside you. Instead of writing this you could be talking to someone real instead of talking to yourself. Sometime there'll be someone here beside you and this room will be too small and you'll bump into each other way too often.

But your loneliness will go out like a candle in the close quarters.

[And would it have been worth it, after all,
Would it have been worth while,
After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets,
After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor --
And this, and so much more? -- ]

[Places to kiss:
+ On Rachel, in the middle of the street, between Clark and St. Urbain, facing the mountain.
+ Against the Sun Youth building.]


Nikki99 said...

This made me cry. Felt sad. Even more sad than I was before.
But I don't blame you of course. Anyways point being; it was sad.

Anonymous said...


Anonymous said...

this was the last thing i read before i went to sleep last night (before you edited it). then i had a dream that we made out. it was weird. not like heavy petting but there was some slight tongue action/tmi i was definitely there last year. there being that state of mind. except my drug of choice was marijuana. i'm sorry you feel this way. *hugs*

Anonymous said...

i think we could be good friends

Jada said...

youre such a beautiful writer, and i think this is where im at right now, or pretty damn close to it. i hope to find the time where i can bump into someone else way too often, and i hope you find it too, if thats what you want.

melisa. said...

some of these posts (this esp) gives me the urge to listen to city & colour

saint modesto said...

nikki: stick it out, kiddo.

anonymous: hi

anonymous: that sounds like a fantastic dream


jada: thanks.

melisa: that's interesting because i don't really listen to city and colour at all.

Kraxpelax said...

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algunos barcos azulos
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visitantes paran
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Windor Mirrow


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Anonymous said...

This is exactly how I feel some [most of] the time. Why does this exist?