I didn’t want my night to involve this. I was doing so good. Perhaps it’s good to cry. To clean. There are those people that we will just always love. The ones that keep us from all else. It’s been months since he held me like he loved me, and even a hug feels so wrong to me. My hand being held feels like I’m cheating. I know I am not. I am blessed with understanding. I guess when you meet, and get to be with your twin soul; all else feels off. It’s just not the same. I also guess that it wears off. I guess it fades. My guesses turn to hopes at this point. I can like, but I don’t know that I’ll ever love like that. I don’t know that I ever want to. My god, the cost. I’d pay it 100 times over again just to feel. The feeling of those hands on my face. That look in his eyes of pure love. I should have known when he returned without that look, that he only came to me with untrue intentions. I never dreamed he’d have done those things to me. I never dreamed I’d do what I did in response. My god I miss x. I have nightmares every day for that. (I’m sorry two, I guess we’ll have this discussion now)
You are in heaven and I will see you on the day I see you. Your daddy will to. He’s a good daddy.
Oktoberfest to be followed up tomorrow. 5 new members tonight, welcome!
Love writes a letter and sends it to hate.
My vacations ending. I’m coming home late.
The weather was fine and the ocean was great
and I can’t wait to see you again.
Hate reads the letter and throws it away.
“No one here cares if you go or you stay.
I barely even noticed that you were away.
I’ll see you or I won’t, whatever.”
Love sings a song as she sails through the sky.
The water looks bluer through her pretty eyes.
And everyone knows it whenever she flies,
and also when she comes down.
Hate keeps his head up and walks through the street.
Every stranger and drifter he greets.
And shakes hands with every loner he meets
With a serious look on his face.
Love arrives safely with suitcase in tow.
Carrying with her the good things we know.
A reason to live and a reason to grow.
To trust. To hope. To care.
Hate sits alone on the hood of his car.
Without much regard to the moon or the stars.
Lazily killing the last of a jar
Of the strongest stuff you can drink.
Love takes a taxi, a young man drives.
As soon as he sees her, hope fills his eyes.
But tears follow after, at the end of the ride,
Cause he might never see her again.
Hate gets home lucky to still be alive.
He screams o’er the sidewalk and into the drive.
The clock in the kitchen says 2:55,
And the clock in the kitchen is slow.
Love has been waiting, patient and kind.
Just wanting a phone call or some kind of sign,
That the one that she cares for, who’s out of his mind,
Will make it back safe to her arms.
Hate stumbles forward and leans in the door.
Weary head hung, eyes to the floor.
He says “Love, I’m sorry”, and she says, “What for?
I’m your and that’s it, Whatever.
I should not have been gone for so long.
I’m your’s and that’s it, forever.”
You’re mine and that’s it, forever.