September 20th, 2005 · 3 comments

[ 16th september, after midnight; So. I’ve been fine all week. and then (and then). the song you once told me was yours comes on out of the blue. I make myself listen to it completely, out of being sick or just a fucking wrenching need to remember. I choke it back. […] I throw things and reach for my cigarettes. […] I tried crying hunched on the floor in the upstairs bathroom. But I see how pathetic you can still make me sometimes and I can’t. I can’t fucking cry you out of me.

I picked up a bottle of the aftershave you wear at a display counter, the other day. And I wanted to smell like you, again. I wanted to smash that smoky glass container against my throat and wail. I hate that. I hate how places and things you’ve never touched can feel like you and taste like you, and make moving on & living that much harder because. because you’re not leaving me. ]   • K.

{ 3 Responses to ; }

What's this?

You are currently reading ; at UNDREAMING(.NET)


  • . Subscribe to Blog .

    Subscribe to posts via RSS, or enter your email address below to receive notifications of new posts by email.

  • . Instagram .

    No images found!
    Try some other hashtag or username
  • . Twitter .

    • My body is a haunted house that I am lost in. There are no doors but there are knives a… https://t.co/V8nRmAg8mx 1 day ago
    • (trying to see how kind i can get) 3 days ago
    • i just need something that will be loving towards me again. i am so tired of all this longing. and hunger. 3 days ago
    • dreamt i was bleeding all over everything, and i guess in a way i really always am. my raw heart out and leaking. 6 days ago
    • (the anguish of training your heart to unwant a thing) 6 days ago