note: My next few posts will be some previews (in a sense) for what to expect from 2003-2007. For those who know what I'm talking about...yeah, here's a peek at some stuff I was toying with in assistance. Don't worry though, the ones I post won't be in the book...[warning: It's more of a dark themed overall feel...but perfect timing in regards to feelings.]
*this is some dual poem shit in a sense...the slash is the divider. First line/lines are the male, the secondary line(s) are the female. It all takes place in "the room"...as they both are in there at the same time, silence being deafening.*
This room isn't big enough for the both of us/
This room isn't big enough for the both of us...
The sunset shining I see out the window is an example,
a symbol if you will...of the dwindling hope for us/
The sunset shining used to easily draw my attention;
now it serves as a distraction so I can forget about 'us'...
This wooden closet...if it were to hold all of our problems,
it would need an infinite amount of hangars and shelves/
He's looking at the closet in a transfixed state...
as if he sees every one of his skeletons before him...
Look at her, judging...assuming...and I thought she was the best of them,
turns out she's AGAINST ME...she's simply just like the rest of them/
I have no idea where his mind has gone...where the man that was so ALIVE,
so eager, so IN LOVE has gone...to leave me with this shell of him...
I've spent countless hours in this very room, walking on this oak floor...
wondering where it went wrong, why it went out the window.../
Little does he know the days that I've sat in the middle of this floor...
surrounded by clothes strewn everywhere, tears fell somewhere...
The heels on my Oxfords making scratches as I turned and wheeled,
back and forth...pacing away to a suicidal soundtrack in my mind.../
..scrapes I've created in the wood, from the hangars I've clutched,
when self-inflicted pain was my crutch...bloody Merry in a sense...
It's why I always folded up her clothes she left haphazardly on the floor,
it gave me something to focus on...take my mind away from the window/
He always seemed so concerned with why I was mopping and waxing the floor,
I swear he saw the scrapes from me...but never said a word; anything...
(to be continued)
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