I’ve been meaning to write more ever since I got my heart ripped out of my body and ruthlessly stamped on, but I’ve been busy with my heart being ripped out of my body and ruthlessly stamped on. Things are getting better, though. He spoke to me today – well I say spoke, I mean we chatted on Gchat for a bit (ah, modern life) – and it was sort of brutal. I couldn’t tell if he was trying to get me back or trying to push me further away but either way, it didn’t completely slay me the way I thought it would should this happen. I’ve done the endless crying, I’ve had the days where I can’t bring myself to do anything at all. I’ve done the excessive drinking and thinking I’m ugly and now, things have changed. I feel awful for him because I know how it feels. However, it still was not my decision, and so my sympathy levels are limited. I wouldn’t punch myself in the face and go round telling everyone how much it hurt. There’s a whole lot going on in my life right now, and I’m largely into self-preservation at the moment. Maybe it hasn’t fully sunk in, I don’t feel like it has. I still can’t bear to see photos of him, so I’ve got rid of them. The love letters were upsetting me to read so I had a friend remove them from my house. The videos are tough to watch so I don’t watch them. That’s that. It comes and goes in waves and today I was on a good wave. I’m being asked out on dates. People are telling me this is for the best. Friends are being supportive. I feel very loved, just not by that one particular person. And I don’t think it’s wrong that I feel angry. I feel genuine when I tell him to take care of himself because I don’t wish any harm on him, but I know the pain. I had the pain and I was ignored through it. I was set aside. I’ve had some messy break-ups before but I don’t think anyone has done it this brutally to me before and I’ll heal however I damn well want. So maybe I will go on a couple of the dates I’ve been asked on. I’m not looking to fall directly in love now but if someone wants to buy me dinner and flirt with me, why the hell not?
But yes, back to my original point. I’m enjoying my poetry now it isn’t desperately heartbroken, even if I am. I’m starting to be able to use perspective and try some old techniques. I felt like I had to write today because I read http://lookhowprodigal.tumblr.com/post/52662364872/saudade <– this beautiful poem today (you're going to have to just click the link or copy and paste it into your browser I think because WordPress is being unreasonable) and thought YEAH WELL I CAN DO BETTER THAN THAT.
I didn’t do better but I did different. This is one of my surreal / Stein inspired works and it’s called Meshes of the Afternoon, because of the senses of self portrayed in that short film (look it up, you won’t regret it).
Take me to that place where they do the burgers.
Describe to me your dreams about houses.
Are they empty? Because that means something.
Detract then delight farther than the pampered you.
Remember me assuring you I honoured your ideas?
People keep their eyes on us, watch our steps.
I’m going to retweet you again. I’m going to worry
About your mind based on how your feed reads.
Create an award just for me and get the trophy made.
Sext me. Send me a dick pic. Miss my breasts more
Than anything in this world. Remortgage the home you
Built deep in my aorta. Loneliness rejects me like an
Irritating stepchild, made itself known with an
“I HATE YOU” on the walls. Every night alone has been
An objection to concern. I am spilled out over this bar
Tonight. I am reserved and packaged for you again.
I’m slowing and speeding. I am a silver, that is a
Blind heart; I once saw it snow in April. Come on baby,
Run the ruins with me. Sir, you’re damn suspicious now.
Greatly hearted as you drift beside the yellow walls
It’s Summer now, so make the weather last for me.
Arrive as if carrying a very crooked ask. Explode
With me at midnight and respond to all my texts.
Quietly repeat us and don’t think of what comes next.