You can lie in bed with a cashmere robe and a silk blanket and still be uncomfortable.
You can stare at a ceiling covered with paintings by Monet and see nothing beautiful.
You can stick your feet out of the covers on a winter night and feel no chills.
You can love someone with all your heart and still be unhappy.
Because they don’t love you back.
8 pounds, 7 ounces; A new born baby boy. Follow me, young one, to your lock and your key, it is now time for you to get your blank slate. Write on this what you will, hold the pencil with any hand you like. You’re shaping your future now, you are beginning to create your life.
Of course I hold the lock and the key. Why would you ever get ones of your own? None of this is really yours, after all. Hush now, just come along. If you ask too many questions you’ll never see. Never see what? Yes, I can see every question you’re asking: They’re all swimming around in those deep, shallow, oceanic blue eyes…. Shallow as in selfish, darling. If you keep asking all these questions, what you will never see is this slate.
Yes, it looks very old indeed. The slate is created with history. It is made up of all the years behind you. Seeing as how this is 2009, that’s a lot of years. You should be gentle, you may harm it though… If that is what you wish to do with your future.
Nail polish falls and a heart stops. We have been through this already, and I thought that we were over this. You have managed to creep into my veins and empower my entire body. We’re only as strong as our weakest teammate. I am weak for you are weak. Ritualistically, I fight against your cliché. None of us are really weak, on our own. I can only think this, I can’t even get it out in a whisper. My lips are swollen, I shan’t be mute… I feel so impaired just from knowing that I could be stronger. Nail polish chipped, and half done… I can’t even finish, I can’t even cry out. A hush, and I haven’t even been speaking. You’re paranoid, I can feel it: yet you continue your abuse. Body trembling, nail polish still on the floor, I quote every post card I’ve seen with a palm tree in the background… If only you were here.
Nail polish falls and a heart… breaks.
