sometimes i don’t want to reach in and tell the story. remembering that time where everything was lost and exploding. when i unknowingly gave up fear for stupidity yet still felt the need to carry the weight. there are just so many scenes just like each other, building the forts to block out today.
so now, all i see is hate. with the curve of your eye or an idea of your skin and all i can do is age my face into the lines i blame you for. all i can think about is how i need to lose weight or be a better guitar player. so naturally, i stop and ride out the resentment. driving the long road to another place i have no idea about. away from any thoughts of you. away from where i know. away. away. away.
so yes, it is hard to write about. because then i have to remember. remember what it was like to enter into a damaging love. the safety of my skin being scratched away, crumbling my authority. everything i didn’t know….