there were nights where I couldn't sleep. the angles
of the walls made me dizzy and your face was painted
at jarring intersections on the back of my flutterin
g eyelashes. my guts would roll onto themselves, thi
nking of all the times you must have rolled onto her
, tasting sweet flesh and delicious innocence. toast
ing aphrodite on her great and marvelous creations.i
was Holding the memory in my hand today, while you w
ere gone, and perusing what the feeling of being num
b would be like again if ever I could experience its
nothingness without the comprehension I would undoub
tedly have now. upon thinking this through, i allowe
d each reckless memory to wash over me and in fact,
become me, the way that water flowing over ice does.
the  way you looked did nothing for me in comparison
to the way you just were. you were a butterfly yours
elf, with wings of wire and you were desperatly mort
al, despite what you would have others think. despite
what you would have had me think. you would hold you
r fragile head up high and smile and kiss me like ne
w lovers would, all the while breaking and staring a
t her graceful form as  she masqueRaded her way down
each corridor, flitting from peasant to peasant, gre
eting each new face with a painted smile and a perfe
ct hello as only a trained performer could do. the s
tage soon grew too slick for even her. and all throu
gh this cycle of decay and bittersweet remembrance t
hat we used to push our lives forward, to keep the b
all rolling and to keep our saturated egos in check-

somehow, we knew that the pains of the day weren't
meant to stay this way, and that at
the end of each tunnel
at least, there
must be a
train.

06/27/2004