Echoed
03-06-2005, 08:01
...and wrote this. Here. I mean, I have it elsewhere. And it looks different with html'ing. ...Not that anyone cares about it, because I'm obviously talking to myself. ^_^' So, anyway. This was actually originally about some frustration over soccer issues. And well. Yes. I'm crazy. And somewhat bored. And haven't written in a while. And have a skewed sense of reality what writing is. And also talking to myself again. So. Shh me. (Feel free to tell me it is poop. 'Cause otherwise, I'll just do it myself. I'm good with the whole self-conversation thing. Um. Monologuing. Thing. Shutting up now. Promise! Totally.)
I'm Worth It
We all have our reasons for treason, and yours aren't any different, diffident to
my suddenly lacking, cracking, blackening confidence--
Sitting between you and her,
I can see you looking over my shoulder,
while I hold your hand.
You smile behind my back
and draw stars on my arm.
--in your difference of opinion, a minion to the fusion of our confusion and reunion,
in the union of our communion and disillusion. I'm not going to wait on you, while--
The counter feels cold on my skin
as I watch you dance with her.
Your hands hover but never touch.
And you both turn to look at me.
As though I were really able to stop anything.
--you hate on me, and bait me with irrate traits that frustrate and don't communicate
the bubbling hate that won't cease to create problems between me and fate. I can't
believe that you'd call me up and expect me to corrupt--
"Hey, can she come with us today? I have another pass."
"Sure."
"Great! I mean, if it's okay with you."
"Yeah. Why not."
--and disrupt my schedule to accomodate the dates of your freedom, when you won't
even look my way and it took you so long to say that you needed me, while I
remained unheeded by your--
You cling to my arm
when your friends look our way,
and smile sweetly at me.
I feel safe where I am,
but I know you would just as soon let me go
when everyone else stopped looking.
--seeded bleeding, leading us all to a goal that was barely discussed, playing with my
trust, with a taste of disgust. And I know you have every right, crystal clear sight, on
the choices you've made, but it doesn't mean--
Yesterday, I saw you kiss her.
She pushed you away.
I'm not sure if she did it
because she was shocked,
or because she saw me.
Not that I said anything.
--I have to agree with the voices you trade. I'm second in line, but first to define--
You've been calling me for days now.
But I don't give a shit.
I just give her the phone.
She looks at me with sad eyes
and sorry on her lips.
She never says it though.
--the mud when there's blood. Don't toy--
You stand in my doorway, soaked and cold.
I have to let you in.
I could hate you. I should.
Just not when you look so lost
in that sweater I love.
You touch my hand, and for a moment,
I think everything will be okay.
Then, I see her walk
around the corner,
asking me who it is.
--with me, play coy with me, I'm--
So, here I am, looking at you,
looking at her, looking at me.
I feel like laughing. So, I do.
I turn away from you and leave.
You two can do whatever the fcuk you want.
--a valuable asset to your operation, the laceration--
I start the car,
and you come out after me.
She's not far behind.
The rain doesn't stop for either of you.
You stand in front of the headlights,
while she knocks on my window.
"It's not what you think,"
she's telling me through the glass.
--of your heart, a peak off the--
I want to scream my heart out,
empty my lungs on the dashboard.
Instead, I just grip the steering wheel.
I'm holding on so tightly
that my knuckles hurt.
You falter as you stare at me.
I think you're afraid
that I might actually run you over.
--chart, just to play a part, only--
You should know better.
You should've known better.
So, I lower the window
and tell her that I just need a bit of time
to calm down and think things through.
I suggest that you both do the same.
I don't bother looking at you.
That wouldn't do at all.
--to realize that you'd broken down--
Biting your bottom lip,
you slowly back away.
She holds the house door open for you.
I don't know if you actually ever walk in.
I might never know,
because I'm already driving away.
--long ago, and I'll be out of town long before you know.
~Echo/Noct.
I'm Worth It
We all have our reasons for treason, and yours aren't any different, diffident to
my suddenly lacking, cracking, blackening confidence--
Sitting between you and her,
I can see you looking over my shoulder,
while I hold your hand.
You smile behind my back
and draw stars on my arm.
--in your difference of opinion, a minion to the fusion of our confusion and reunion,
in the union of our communion and disillusion. I'm not going to wait on you, while--
The counter feels cold on my skin
as I watch you dance with her.
Your hands hover but never touch.
And you both turn to look at me.
As though I were really able to stop anything.
--you hate on me, and bait me with irrate traits that frustrate and don't communicate
the bubbling hate that won't cease to create problems between me and fate. I can't
believe that you'd call me up and expect me to corrupt--
"Hey, can she come with us today? I have another pass."
"Sure."
"Great! I mean, if it's okay with you."
"Yeah. Why not."
--and disrupt my schedule to accomodate the dates of your freedom, when you won't
even look my way and it took you so long to say that you needed me, while I
remained unheeded by your--
You cling to my arm
when your friends look our way,
and smile sweetly at me.
I feel safe where I am,
but I know you would just as soon let me go
when everyone else stopped looking.
--seeded bleeding, leading us all to a goal that was barely discussed, playing with my
trust, with a taste of disgust. And I know you have every right, crystal clear sight, on
the choices you've made, but it doesn't mean--
Yesterday, I saw you kiss her.
She pushed you away.
I'm not sure if she did it
because she was shocked,
or because she saw me.
Not that I said anything.
--I have to agree with the voices you trade. I'm second in line, but first to define--
You've been calling me for days now.
But I don't give a shit.
I just give her the phone.
She looks at me with sad eyes
and sorry on her lips.
She never says it though.
--the mud when there's blood. Don't toy--
You stand in my doorway, soaked and cold.
I have to let you in.
I could hate you. I should.
Just not when you look so lost
in that sweater I love.
You touch my hand, and for a moment,
I think everything will be okay.
Then, I see her walk
around the corner,
asking me who it is.
--with me, play coy with me, I'm--
So, here I am, looking at you,
looking at her, looking at me.
I feel like laughing. So, I do.
I turn away from you and leave.
You two can do whatever the fcuk you want.
--a valuable asset to your operation, the laceration--
I start the car,
and you come out after me.
She's not far behind.
The rain doesn't stop for either of you.
You stand in front of the headlights,
while she knocks on my window.
"It's not what you think,"
she's telling me through the glass.
--of your heart, a peak off the--
I want to scream my heart out,
empty my lungs on the dashboard.
Instead, I just grip the steering wheel.
I'm holding on so tightly
that my knuckles hurt.
You falter as you stare at me.
I think you're afraid
that I might actually run you over.
--chart, just to play a part, only--
You should know better.
You should've known better.
So, I lower the window
and tell her that I just need a bit of time
to calm down and think things through.
I suggest that you both do the same.
I don't bother looking at you.
That wouldn't do at all.
--to realize that you'd broken down--
Biting your bottom lip,
you slowly back away.
She holds the house door open for you.
I don't know if you actually ever walk in.
I might never know,
because I'm already driving away.
--long ago, and I'll be out of town long before you know.
~Echo/Noct.