The last time I held her, my arms felt heavier than this blank, draping sky. From lust to indifference within a handful of saturday nights, I squandered my opportunities like I would be a perpetual adolescent. I felt the clichés cling tight onto the ass hairs of my aspirations. I felt the boredom in her blueberry eyes.
‘What makes you think I still care?’ I don’t remember who asked first. ‘What made you think I had cared at all?’ came the retort. It was kind of sad how true those angry lies quickly became.
So we never did get past a certain stage, always tethered to the mundane rhythms of our ordinary days. Maybe we could never fully believe in each other. Perhaps I never believed in myself.
spiral scratch
no substitute love .. . { estelle, shine }
take this hammer .. . { leadbelly, tell me where did you sleep last night }
transmission .. . { joy division }
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