blujinxx

blah blah blah, blah blah blah.
you talk, but about nothing.
you listen, but you don't understand.
you see, but you don't pay attention.


there's a storm coming in. i'm happy, except that i wanted to move tomorrow. oh well, at least there will be rain

tell me a story
not just any story
tell me our story
tell me we
can be together
lie to me and
tell me you love me
the way i love you
tell me it was real
to you, too, that
it meant something
tell me that we
connected as souls
tell me that i could
be a great father.
lie to me and
tell me this isn't
over, that we
are forever
lie to me

i remember violin lessons, the white chalky smell, idle curiosity over the sexuality of my ancient teacher with his coke-bottle glasses. the happy farmer, suzuki method. the stairs going up to the cozy practice room.

i remember corey telling me that the tiny graveyard up the street from my house was haunted, that the howell ghosts would come out at night and search for souls to take with them back to hell. last i heard corey was in jail. i was scarred from that shit. now i love graveyards. the gardens of the dead. that's probably why.

i remember falling in love for the first time. but i don't remember her name.

i remember that i forgot to remember to forget some things