migblog

it's monday. band camp started at canyon today. surprised that everyone already knew who i was even though i graduated and they're all new to me. hmmm. life makes it interesting that way, i guess. i finally read what i wrote in ry's yearbook (it had been bugging me, this one part) and we had a nice long talk. nice long talks are good. they tend to calm me down. like nice long drives. or background music. it's eerily quiet at my house. plus i'm packing all my stuff into boxes... it's scary. moving out on thursday. we're driving out at about four in the morning. and jay gets back that day.

i'm utterly frustrated and depressed and excited and anxious and relieved and paranoid and delirious. i mumble a lot. i say nonsense. complete thoughts tend to escape me. but here's something i wrote right after i got home from that nice long talk. it's amazing what friends will make you see: the things right in front of you. i forgot about that.

thank you

why do i have to care for you so much?
maybe because i am scared as hell.
i'm too afraid to find out what happens
if i let go,
if i run away from here,
if i lose sight of this place,
if i never see you again.
will you hold my hand and help me through?
i'm scared.
you've done so much for me, you know.
i can never begin to begin to thank you enough
even though i've hurt you so goddamned much.
and still you forgive me
and smile
and laugh at my crazy antics
and care.
why do i always cry?
it's coming.
i'm gone in two days, you know.
i know you know how i really feel
even though i don't say much.
but when you look at me
but for that moment
but for every instance that you've paid attention
but for everything and nothing all at once --
you never hesitate.

sometimes i wish i could just
throw everything away
to know you're all right,
and you always say you are.
you never tell me these things.
most of the time i wish i could
just be normal, you know,
so you won't have to see me cringe in pain
or breathe short shallow breaths
gasp, trying, gasp, to, gasp
stay alive
pushing medicine through my bloodstream.
i care for you too much.

i have so much to say to you.
but the one thing we need the most, we don't have enough of
because it waits for no one.
the most i can do is pray
and hope to something, somewhere
that in the near future our paths will cross
again.
i will have much more to say then.
i will tell you.

the apple fell from the tree
and could not decide in which hand she would go.
the one on the right listens to me,
but my eye falls for the one on the left.
of one person, two hands
but only one apple.
the left hand told the right hand to go back
into the pocket
and told everything he felt about the apple.
the apple waited slowly as it ripened beautifully.
the right hand experienced ecstasy
and god forbid, love
when he held the apple but for mere moments.
the left hand wonders about the what-ifs and
the maybes and the would-haves.
that's all he can do now as he holds the apple.

just like the stone under the dreaming tree
i hope you'll come along with me.
we'll sleep to dream her many nights
and find that in our ephemeral delights
the life that we once used to live:
the one we would never have again.

thanks for listening and all your time.
i'm not worth as much as you think i am.
that's only as much as i can be.
goodbye, now.
goodbye.
i hope to see...
goodbye, now.
goodbye.

of the same person, two hands.
so similar yet innately different.
they match up when he prays.
he prays now.
goodbye, now.

and tears up at the coffee shop
with dreams of being in a band
and music in his life.
goodbye.

posted by Open Source Food @ 6:05 PM