It's 3.15 and I can't wash your words away. One of the first times you had really spoken to me in months and the last time I can remember you honestly looking at me. You've been ground down to a sham of what you were. We danced: each others' partners, but nowhere near each other. Revolving around our common vices and our common friends until eventually we collide, hard and raw and pushing the boundaries between mean and friendly; violence and want; what we are and what we were. The way you talked to me, the way you looked at me, the way you left finger shaped bruises on my arms, my hips, my shoulders. Not sure whether you held on so tight because you wanted to leave a mark or because you didn't want to leave at all.
I swear to God, I didn't mind.
4 comments:
remember back when we all used to have an entire friendship linked to these blogs?
that was amazing writing. I don't know why but it connected with me and made me tear up. maybe it's because of a blog I called "unscripted" i just wrote.
I'd love to follow you and would love it if you could stop by my blog as well at:
http://jewelsturning30.blogspot.com
Gorgeous. Your words are alive.
damn good writing......really touched
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