question and answer.

3/9/10.

"do you miss him?"
sometimes.
sometimes i miss sitting in the swing
on his front porch,
or walking around his neighborhood.
i miss having someone
who was willing to sit in the
cemetary with me.

"and how about him?"
it's not him i miss.
in fact, i really quite
despise even hearing his name.
i miss what we were like,
i suppose.
we had the freedom to
lay in bed together all day,
and we did.
our life revolved around
tracing circles on each other's spines
or going on walks with friends.
i miss those things.
not his company.

"and her?"
well, she's always a little too
distant for me.
it hurts, but that's what time does,
i suppose.

"what happened with her?"
i don't know how to explain
anymore than anyone else does.
one day i woke up and i understood.
one day i woke up and everything
that i didn't want to make sense, finally did.

"why do you call yourself poison?"
because it's so sweet.
and for a while, it just seeps into your system.
you may not know it's happening, even.
or maybe you do, and it could even
make you a little high.
then one day, it hurts like hell.
that's my personality.
without fail.
if it doesn't kill you,
it leaves scars.

"you've killed? you've left scars?"
ask any person i've ever been close to.
all of them have gotten hurt, in one
form or another.
one went so far as to say i killed who they were.
and well, i believe them.
they never were the same after.

"what other words would you use to describe yourself?"
secondhand smoke,
fragile,
thin.
but i don't want to take the words out of
mister lacey's mouth.

"and your motto?"
'the road to hell is paved with good intentions.'

"why do you always sound so sad?"
because misery is beautiful.
i am incredibly happy in my life,
more than words could ever say.
but my past is full of tears,
and they make for a prettier story.

"do you miss the past?"
not anymore.

... f**k this introspective bullshit.