maurauder

Sometimes I'm uncomfortable with this medium. I can assure you, the pixilated 'me' that stares up at you from your screen, coy and glib, flirtatious and eloquent, that is not an accurate represtentation. The real me is shy. I am clumsy and trip a lot. I blush a lot as well. The real me is not gifted with a back space bar, cannot punctuate my thoughts with emoticons for clarity.

So the thing is, my pixilated friends, I'd kind of rather be the real me. So I have decided to do something I will undoubtedly regret. I will show you a very unrefined, but very real, part of me. I am not a writer and do not pretend to be, and I am perfectly comfortable with that. So please, no false compliments. I wrote this after losing the love of my life.


When I breath deeply I can still smell you
Which is funny
I remember thinking you had no smell
I remember when gnomes played the harp on my spine
I remember the first time you gave me a rose
I remember the first time I gave you a lime

I think I've seen too many Hollywood endings
"I'm still pulling knifes out of my back"
I once told you
over tacos
Before we ever were a 'we'


Running the beast
The ocean looks like a Dreamworks masterpiece
But then again,
Everything looks funny these days
Tinted or tainted in plastic matte wrapping
My sorrow is safely hidden behind the sickly green NyQuil screen
Driving home the doves are screaming

When I breath deeply I can still smell you
I'm hyperventilating