So I’ve come to the conclusion that I am completely indifferent towards friendships. I just wish to be left alone.
Maybe I should stop listening to indie alternative…
I feel like all I need is my school and one good person to understand how I am, and I have that person.
No shame.

It’s at times like these, when I can’t sleep
when I can hear the sounds of the cars
and the people with just a bit too much of a good time in their veins
as they stumble down the side of the street.
And  those cars, they run those stop signs and the red lights
because hell, if you gotta get somewhere
you might as well get there, because when the
day was long, and the night is clear and free,
nothing is stopping you.

When you have something you take pride in, ya with a girl right next to you
and as she lets her hair down and cleans it with the breeze
and all you can think about is what’s going to happen next
and in each image she’s wearing less and less
and those traffic lights are all blinking green.
And the streetlights stand tall for you, just for you.
But you’ll know you’re at the right place,
you’ll know you are safe,
when they all dissappear.

Age isn’t an issue, you can just add them up
and getting them isn’t an issue, you can get anyone you want.
And you settle for someone who knew no more than 2+2 and
how to tie their shoes, and at the same time you were waiting for your parents to leave so you could take advantage of this girl you met at a glance,
and she thought it was really something,
you’re good with make believe.
You’re excellent with persuasion
you really know how to reel them in, now don’t you?
and they never had the chance becuase you’re too charming to be ‘that guy’
who doesn’t really give a shit about you.
Ya you think ‘you’re different’ and not like the rest of them,
but how much different can you be
after a long streak of repeating blonde, blue, 5”6.
Doesn’t quite fit now does it?

So hold your head up high,
you’ve had a tough life and now you have a guy to
just make you think something good has finally become yours.
But he has a family, we know how he is.
We know exactly what he’s doing, and where he’s going
and that’s no where.
And you’ll go there too and you should start running
back to those guys you admire, who are probably all in jail.
You should start going for those guys who have children, they just don’t know where, or with whom, but who can blame them? Bars get smoky.
So just don’t get involved, you’ll never know who you’re getting involved with.
But some people do, some people know too well.

That’s why sometimes, people stay up too late.
And they just wait for you to leave their basement,
the clock has only changed it’s time since you arrived
and i’m not getting any of it back.
And I can stare out my window for a little longer.
I can watch as the idiots make their way home
to an unfurnished apartment, a static t.v set
and they’ll crawl into bed
and they’ll crawl into you
if you let them

Grocery stores have less traffic right before close. This is when you’ll find Helen shopping for her and her husband. There is less to buy now that her kids are married and have moved out to start lives of their own. Just Helen and her husband staying fit, and eating right; almost as if to compensate for their old age though hardly any amount of healthy living with tilt back their hourglass. 

Helen never made grocery lists; now it’s just easier. She knows where everything is, no aimless wandering, and no sense of adventure; that died years ago.  

Up and down the aisles she pushes her cart. 

Grocery stores are easier to navigate right before close. This is when you’ll find Greg shopping for him and his wife. Greg has always done the grocery shopping; he says it keeps him busy now that he has retired. It’s a sense of adventure for him, and to get away from home is quite appealing.  His wife always forgets to put the coffee on and never looks him in the eye. 

Greg finds the atmosphere comforting and has made friends with the baker. He always picks up cookie for his grandson that he barely sees but they’re for him if he ever wants one. 

So he waits for a fresh batch, staring out into bread aisle.

There’s just one more thing on the list. Helen needs one more thing before she leaves.

And it really was no coincidence at the time that bumping into Greg’s cart would send her entire life flashing before her eyes.

And that sting of remorse and the tingling of curiosity couldn’t be denied.

And it’s funny that when she looked at him to apologize she knew what she has been missing all her life. And it was no coincidence that Greg felt it too. 

They loved each other.

But they must go home to their respective houses, because that’s just how it goes. And they must smile to their partners and make them dinner and put the coffee on themselves because that’s just how it goes.

But once you know that your whole life was a lie you can’t think of it any other way.

So sadness begins, it gets under your skin and it becomes who you are in every single way. 

So when friends and family cried at their funerals, Helen and Greg couldn’t help but finish their physical life with a smile.

And I guess that’s where this story begins. 

Do you really want the truth that you have found?

Old love letters buried in pea coat pockets, your spring-cleaning transpired into more than just the closets.

Now I am scared to look you in the eye,

They are so blue I cannot tell if they are there at all,

Seeing through you is easy when you blend into the sky.

Head full of messenger birds anxious to get out,

However, they have no time of arrival, no departure date,

They are stuck with their beaks perched over the starting gate.

Tied to their ankles like fragile twigs, are words of affection, which snap so easily if held in the wrong hands.

Misconstrued terms of endearment if spoken too soon.

There is a certain type of ear for such a thing. Look for a girl with wide eyes, crooked teeth, and a slur in her speech. Perfect ears for such an imperfect girl.

Boy, you are lucky to have her. You once had her, or longed for her while standing for the national anthem, and twiddling your thumbs during a lesson about moderating effects of the Great Lake.

Always lying about something, “I’m a natural brunette”. Copper, golden flecks of colour seeping through your hands, caramel tides on her head.

Swimming through your muddy waters, nose is getting longer, poke holes in your foundation, I’m feeling faint, I’m getting dizzy. No more words left to say when I am pushed out of the ring.

What good comes out of saying anything? Words, words, words.

Where were you when I tried to compromise?

Right in front of me you say, and I know you were, maybe a little bit to the left, but it felt like you were never there at all. It never felt like you were ever there, and I considered myself lonely when I always had you to call, and your shoulder to cry on, and it should have been your chest I rested on, but I’m not so inclined.

Holding backs tears is easier said than done, but it’s the truth, I wanted to be seen as strong.

The sad thing is, if I remember correctly, you weren’t even looking at me at all.

However, I have been fine, I’m doing ok. I have men to talk to and fill up my time. Apparently I’m ‘interesting,’ I wonder if you ever thought the same. So I use to them to contrast my sorrows to, find differences in apathy that make it seem silly to rely on. Maybe if I can’t relate I’ll snap out of this self hating binge I’ve been so worked up on.

Late nights are the prime time for accurate descriptions of exactly how I have been feeling ever since our paths crossed.

I still remember everything; do you remember anything?

Now seeing you it makes my stomach turn, I hide my face to dry my eyes, I can feel it boil in my stomach, I just want to crawl in a bed and close my blinds.

Fixed image in my head, I won’t ever forget it. Just like I won’t ever forget those carefully selected words you responded with, when I was scared as to what you would say. But I gave to you my most personal possession; my words, and with it I exposed and explained to you everything that I’m composed of.

“I know you, you are not like that,” was all you said. It makes me wonder if you’ve always known me better than I’ve known myself, if who I’m supposed to be is inside your memory, your fixed image is how I’m supposed to be, and I was foolish never to see you always at my side, you’ve always been there for me.

If I’m giving you too much credit, then so be it.

I will go to extremes to find a protest, a deliberate reaction to form some kind of truth. I will say things to get a reaction, I find comfort in common denominators, you and all of them are all the same under one condition; I’m ‘interesting.’

(we were foolish in your basement, eyes wide, lips open, felt like my first kiss, felt like it should have been my first kiss, but I was too distant, and I lost it)

Fixed image suspended in my mind, it’s so fragile, it’s so weak
I’m slowly starting to lose your image,

But not as fast as I lost you.