novembre ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- lady as I leave you/ limp on the floor we have to chance misery in order to love company. misery loves company but love accompanies misery. it's this strange little cycle, and everyone is revolving on its axis to their own degree. with each new hurt do you feel deeper? do you fall harder in succession, or was the first the worst and your memory of that one pain so clear that you have avoided its likeness ever since? have you suffered just a few minor rips? are you afraid to be broken completely, so much so that you've never let yourself break before, and you have to imagine the pain that may come? if that is the case, and you happen to be an imaginative perfectionist, your hesitation might have clamped its iron dog's jaws around your heart. you imagine all the different ways they could hurt you until you are exhausted by the perfected image of rounded teethmarks on your [perfectly untouched] heart. do you imagine your heart as anatomical, fleshy and pulsing and veined? or is it a paper valentine? maybe a mixture of the two, a crude print on a pretty little playing card? mine is the in-between, paper but pulpy, not fully dimensional. yet. 1:42 pm - 07.13.04 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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