no one would have done what you didn’t do. at least it’s defensible. & fuck it you agree. it doesn’t make you a bad person. it makes you a weak one.
she says you shouldn’t struggle so much. & it’s crazy how a stranger’s presence can do damage like that in just one moment which jesus really fucking sets you off.
ok so you allow yourself to think maybe you can let it go. she says why not you can’t hurt a dead man. besides that asshole would forgive you if he had the chance. you let her believe it’s helping.
she thinks it is.
"…I sank into your soul, into that secret place where no one dares to go."
— Jeff Mangum
you blame it on that nap you took earlier but you’re not fooling anyone. she knows you’re a sucker for lights & everything just seems to glow in here.
especially now when you feel so alone.
she’s usually pretty good to you when it’s dark but every so often you stumble across all these goddamn splinters she likes to leave all over the place & you think sonofabitch that isn’t helping anyone.
she thinks that’s funny.
"They say it’s 101 degrees today. Fine then, I’m drinking coffee and rolling cigarettes and looking out at the hot baked street and a lady just walked by wiggling it in tight white pants, and we are not dead yet."
— Charles Bukowski
or not enough. she speculates it has something to do with the weather. maybe what you’re drinking at the time.
she knows it’s coffee tonight. bourbon tomorrow. it’s cold out so either will do honestly. you confide it does nothing to you but something for you. & she gets it.
you’re in this together after all.
she does find it curious how it’s always a new face reciting those clever lines you wrote way back when. it’s stupid but you imagine this is like some marquez book. people tend to assume you speak spanish anyway.
she thinks you should learn.
"time held me green and dying / though i sang in my chains like the sea"
— dylan thomas