boys a & b, both not so great.
09/16/2004 04:24 a.m.
a)

i'd come home, makeup on my face
and sleep in it -
thoughts of you like eyeliner
smudged on my cheeks
thoughts of you sending me to a
filthy, exhausted sleep

*

he's beautiful now
i mean, more so than before
[i wonder if it's the time away that did that]
[i wonder if i was killing him by not loving him back]

*

b)

i think of him while in bed. i think of everything that didn't happen and everything that could've. i like to imagine that i'd roll over and he'd be sleeping next to me, the gentle patterns of his breath sending him into a dream and sending me to heaven. i think of how i'd touch his hair and cherish his prescence.

he will never know what i could show him. he will never see everything i felt for him. he will sleep alone. so will i.

*

shaking in my seat, i picked up the phone. the dial tone encourages me. i punched in each digit of his number as if it was a sacred part of him. ring. my heart thumps louder than reciever.

"hello?"

beautiful. just like everything about him.

i say hi. i explain myself. the awkward levels increase. we advance to "how are you's" and "what have you been up to's," both meaningless.

the words fall heavy from his tongue until he runs out and i know he doesn't care to say anything else.

i'd like to say, "i want to touch you through this phone; i'd like to hold you close and show you who i am. i want to know you, come grace me with your scent. i would give my heart and the soul in my blood to know you."

instead, i let the conversation crumble. i let my chance crumble. i let myself crumble.

"maybe we'll talk another time."

no.

never again.

my heart will now return to its normal rhythm, thank you.