i wish life was a taylor swift song

we aren't these people.

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i had convinced myself that it didn't really matter, and, heck, this isn't even what i originally wanted, yet somehow it's (i've) managed to make right now feel like september all over again.

miracle worker

5

4

3

2

one.
there isn't anything in this moment other than the desire to escape, to run, to flee, to hide.
to push your breathing mouth against something and feel your chest tighten as the whatever you have your lips pressed against denies you the right to air, to life, to living, to breathing.
it wasn't planned, organised, thought about before its occurence.
you didn't particularly want it, however you didn't particularly not want it either.
you never really understood yourself, knew yourself, recognised yourself.
you never-
you don't get why you care so much.
you don't get it.
your mouth opens in an attempt to go on living, but you refuse to lift your face, feel the sweet relief of air on your lips, tongue, teeth, throat, chest, lungs.
your chest, your head, your body; everything aches.
and you need the air or it'll be the end.
so you make a choice, a decision, an option in the myriad of ones available to you.
and that choice sets you free.



i am so sick of this damn indecision.

we're just two broken records

but at least we're not alone, right?

infer/imply/insinuate

some say it started with a word and a smile.
others say it was the melody,
the one that was played when we didn't know how nostalgic we wanted to be.
(it had us feeling alright.)
me?
i'm not sure.
i'm not even sure we started it.
retrospect: it seems it was always there, hiding in between glass bottles and stolen afternoons.
a prologue: much like the proverbial story of tragedy meets consequence, this one involves convenience and jealousy and acting getting in the way of real life.
part two: after we forgot how to be ourselves we tried what we knew best: doing what was easiest.
they said, smile. we don't like it when you're sad.
she didn't want to smile though. she wanted to decide.
she wanted to decide between getting over it and moving on, or: trying.
life lesson #6: you must decide who's going to be the hero, and who's going to be the sidekick.
(it's not that difficult to keep dreams alive.)
(p.s. you don't always get to be the hero.)
yet, still, we lie awake, eyes set on some world not too far from this one; picturesque backdrops within ideal settings framing the so-called best days of our lives.
and to think, we were taken out of context.
the twist in the story: the man with the hat forgot to tell us one thing though: there is no going back.
have we been here before?
it feels like we have.
oh, and one last thing: i don't regret it.

reality stripped of all metaphor.

the beginning is difficult to mark.
the ending?
that's a little easier.
see: you and me.