Tuesday, January 31, 2012
The Phantom Limbs
And when we speak now, seldom as that is, the old language returns. I wonder if it makes old names make guest appearances in your mind. If you can feel the skin of my neck near yours one more time. Do you reach across the bed for a shape, no longer there. Do you remember it clearly or is it all just memories of memories. Is there still warmth from my fingers tracing the contours of your skin, left somewhere in your body. If you smell the smell of how I used to smell in a crowd, do you think of these things. Is something missing in everyone else's or someone new's voice. Will they never know quite how to laugh or breathe just behind your ear. Do they know what you look like when you want to leave a party, when you've had too much of people. Could they rebuild your body out of clay if they needed to, because they've touched it so many times. Does your back still arch the way it used to when I still kissed you.
Does an old singer sing an old song on an old radio.
Do the lyrics still shake your fucking soul.
Did it sound like this?
Written by Me at 12:53 AM
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you've put words to the aches and the sounds of my soul once again. thank you.
Now this hit home :(
All that you have described happens even if we do not speak. You are the forever present absence in my mind. You have always been, and will always be a part of me. Why can't we just accept that and move forward? You are here with me as I am there with you, but that's all it will ever be. A present past and an absent future.
Please forgive me.
How reading this makes my heart ache.
Wow. Wow. Thank you for this.
You remind me of someone I used to love.
It's a beautiful memory to feel again and again. But it's only now that you remind me how it feels that I remember. I've been dying slowly.
http://mojeopowiadanie.blogspot.com/ here is my blog, I invite you to read and comment:)
Why? Are you running out of fuel?
Today is your birthday, and I long for that kiss, touch, company every day.
This sums up everything on my heart.
It's all too late.
Yes it did. Yes it does.
are you him? honestly, truly, if it's you, please just say it. i'm starting to think you feel the things that i've been speaking of for years. i don't reach for you anymore, if you were wondering for fear of my mind pushing it's way out of my skull. the memories fade like sun-stained pages but they're still warm and inviting when i allow them. i've forgotten your smell and your voice and your touch but i can still feel your breath and the feeling of your smile in my hair. and although it's not your's, i remember those whispered words.
you are a beautiful mess, and those lyrics are all still true.
but i know that it's your soul that shivers whenever you think of what you let go, not mine. even from here i can hear you cry out in your sleep.
He asks these same questions more often than he could admit to her. I know that and I have the answers too. But everytime I smell his smell in a crowd, in all those little conversations when I wish I was talking to him instead; everytime I remember the warmth of his neck on mine, of his fingers on my waist, I remember that she was always there. Before me and after me. At least I did the right thing. I sent him back to her.
There will always be more songs to remind me of him, more things for me to tell him, to have him laugh, to have him think about his mistakes. But none of this will ever actually happen. We had a good reason to give it all up. We all did.
Beautiful, beautiful and haunting prose poetry.
You ask questions without marking them. You see so much more of the world than anyone could tell you in words.
not to love your words a little less,just to love your silence a little more.
I miss you.
This, this is the most beautifully haunting thing I have ever read. Ever.
you ve said it all!!!
I've been reading your blog for years, and somehow you always are able to put my feelings to words, without ever having met me. Thank you.
&You: I always wonder if you continued to follow this blog, and feel the exact same way I feel when you read it.
No, it sounds like your voice. You're not a singer. You were always there. You know what's haunting...the sensation I get wrapped around my ring finger when you're caressing it. I wear your ring my love! I always have. You know who.
wow! you are AMAZING!!!!!!! I love you.
you have a gift :)
Literally perfect omg.
I cried reading this. And i don't cry easily.
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