I remember the way you laughed
but I try not to think about that.
I remember the night you called and said
you you were tired of being sad
well so was I.
Most nights just look like smeared charcoal
all in shades of grey and black.
And I could call out your name
but the sound would never reach you
Or I could call you on the phone
and have nothing to say.
paul baribeau - nothing to say
sing it girl
you say you want your freedom
well who am i to keep you down
it’s only right that you should play the way you feel it
but listen carefully to the sound of your loneliness
like a heartbeat drives you mad
in the stillness of remembering what you had
and what you lost.
I charged at the waves
With a glass in my hand
I was tossed like a ball
at the bottle stand
and I landed beside your
remains on the stones
where your cold fingers
wrapped around my ankle bones
mewithoutyou - fox’s dream of the log flume
“Is there anything here I can call my own? A feeling? A moment? Anything? Will there ever be a time when I am truly loved? When I’ll know it and not wonder if it’s real? Is there something I can protect and love and care about? Is there a truth I can keep that has no fear attached? Will there ever be a time when I can be somewhere and it will feel like home? Will there ever be a time when I will look around me and know I am finally in the place I am supposed to be? Is there anything here, anything I can see, while I breathe and breathe, trying to stay alive long enough to just be able to be here and know that I am here? Not just any here but the here I am supposed to be in. Is there anything that I can call mine that will not eventually be taken from me? Is there anything, anyone, ever?”
Darlings, sometimes love will come to you like a fire
to a forest. When it does, be braver than I was. Just leave.
Take only what you can carry. No tears, no second thoughts.
You have hands like tinder boxes, the smallest spark
will kill you.
Get in the car. Take water to the maps. Avoid gas stations.
Don’t look at the flames dancing in the rear view mirror.
Go to new cities, climb on the rooftops and slow dance with
your coldest memories. Wallpaper your new home with every
dusty, desperate love letter you swore you’d never send.
Find a stranger with sharp edges and uncharted hips.
Press your stories into their skin and forget you ever knew
his name. Just promise you won’t think of embers or smoke.
Even when there is ash in your hair. Even when there is soot
in your lungs.
Clementine von Radics, “To Girls Like Me, With Hearts Like Kindling”