(no subject)
Heart of Gold
What is Your Heart REALLY Made of?
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cute stuff.
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I am baffled and hurt and a little bit angry with you, and i wonder that maybe we really are running on parallel tracks ... isn't this all too familiar? remember when i said i'd like for us to trace the bark of a tree, eyes closed and faces thrown to the sun red pulsing under our eyelids. I would take a careful step, and you would diametrically correspond -- in synch but never bumping into each other. And at that time i took that and i made it mine.
only now you're doing it to me and i don't understand. I'm still at the tree and you're off somewhere i can't see and i hate it. i wonder what your fingertips have learned and loved since i lost sight of you, that last time on the phone, maybe i would have said hello a little softer and reminded you of the bark on our tree.
i'm terrified that that was the last time
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you seem to be quietly inching your way into my space. already you've invited yourself into my room and i don't know what to say. maybe the colors i have loved and laborously put up will jump to my defense. no one enters here who seeks to manipulate and tear and remove items from the premesis, especially my heart. no more, it's a beaten and weak thumpthumpthump. if you loved me gentle and good, my body would sing your name, thumpthump. but it is not a body that sings anybody's name. it is a body that takes no nonsense, no prisoners and good intentions are not good enough for this body.
she demands you surrender, exposed wrists and trusting between the furrowed blonde brows. she demands care and full, and does not desire to be a passing interest.
she thinks she can be for you the edges of the moon and the green of new leaves.
but you, you haven't stopped talking about your theory of good girls and bad girls and smooth pick up lines ... you don't hear her tell you that a good woman would become bad enough if you love her right.
but i cringe to hear you use that on her. this is a body that would sing your name.