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Lying on our backs

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Inmates [Jun. 29th, 2009|12:45 am]
Lying on our backs

pianohead
When you said you loved me, did you really love me? Or did the words just spill out like drool on my pillow. Cause I was naked when you said those words, but I felt covered in your whispered worship. And as you passed out fast on my shoulder, I imagined a child waiting so sad and still for his mom to arrive. Did she leave you an orphan, in that big, brown leather chair? Said, Don't you move a muscle, kid, I'll be back in twenty years,
You were scared, you were lonely, but you must have been aware; life is a series of calluses, this is just another layer. So, build em up, tough it out, yeah, that's your skin don't let anyone under there.

When you said you needed me, did you really need me? Or was I just someone oh, you'd take anything. Am I first on that list of yours, or am I second, or third?
So, who's that ahead of me,some harlot from Pittsburgh? Or Detroit, Santa Fe, or San Diego?
I know you're so alone, but how much affection does one guy really need?

Did you date a lot in high school? Were you always chasing girls?
Couldn't you find some young valentine to steal your heart for good?
Were you content, or contemptible? Are your memories pleasant, or is it a string of endless flings of bitter resentment. Seems that what you want and what you need doesn't mean a thing, we're just here for the taking.

When you said you'd hurt me, did you think you hurt me? Are you really that cocky? Oh, what a heartbreaker! Well, I've got my armor yeah, I've been through some battles before. And I met your old girlfriend, she said, Baby, don't bother. She told me you told her you'd hurt her. Funny, how familiar.
So, how much of this relationship was rehearsed?

Did you act out as a child? Were you always crying wolf? Attention-starved, you tried too hard to get someone to look.
Now you're the wolf in second-hand clothing. I'm the sheep in a pleated skirt.
It's an awkward form of payback, but if it works for you, it works.
It's that I recognize your off-white lies, still, I lie beside you
and that's what really hurts.

When you said you'd leave me well, why haven't you left me? What are we still doing here,
so desperate for company?
There's a greyhound on Jackson Street, there's an airport in Council Bluffs.
Hell, there's a car in the driveway. Fifty ways to get lost.
But as I hold you and listen to you sleeping, I'm starting to wonder if you really believe
that you'd ever really leave. Would you leave me, an orphan, in that big, brown leather chair?
The one you've lugged around from town to town for all these years. It's the trophy of your childhood, like a sharks tooth or gator skin boots but this one holds you prisoner it holds me prisoner too.
What we need to set us free is to let go of each other let go of everything.

When I said I loved you, it was because I loved you.
When I said I needed you, well, I really need you.
Yeah, I guess you hurt me, for once you're a man of your word.
Well, guess what I'm leaving. I can't be your prisoner.

I won't.
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werewolf [Nov. 6th, 2008|05:33 pm]
Lying on our backs

oldmaps
[Current Location |my bed]
[Current Mood |introverted]

 

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(no subject) [Sep. 15th, 2008|08:12 pm]
Lying on our backs

prettytreasures
In his mind they were chasing each other.

Peter was alone, outside the Café des Deux Moulins‎, thinking of past happiness. With the noisy crowd and the people passing by it was hard to drift off, but he did. It was him and Alena running. The sky was full with clouds like full smoke, and it was raining. Peter remembered the aching feeling in his legs, his wet hair, and the sounds of the splashes his feet made as he stomped. The both of them finally found shelter. Forgetting what they were running from they sneaked into an empty house, abandoned and rotting. Inside they saw each other by moonlight, as the rain kept beating down making shadows on the aged windows.

"What a catastrophe!" Peter exhaled, breathing heavily from running. Alena laughed that laugh he so very loved, and shook her head trying to dry her hair.
"What the hell are in those paper bags, Alena, you held them like no fucking tomorrow!"
"Oh shut your face, Peter."

Alena leaned against the wall and brought her knees together. She grabbed the bags and opened them, the paper tearing from the wetness. Her cold hands brought out a couple of sandwiches, apples, and Treetop juice boxes. "Oh we're back in elementary I see!" Peter said as he stabbed the juice box and sipped. After eating in silence he rubbed his eyes and held his face in his hands. Alena leaned her head on his shoulder, and like a reflex Peter sat up and looked at her. He cradled her chin with his perched arm and gazed at her face in the night light.

Her bone structure created shadows on her face, so he admired Alena's illuminated features. Peter stared into her eyes. He remembered that look so well. Even today. Her eyes would sparkle and look yearning, as if they were pleading. As if they were loving. Peter did love her. And he never wanted her more than he did then. Like raindrops on roses he fell into something beautiful and slowly slipped away. Away and away and he kissed her then. He felt her wet hair in between his fingers then. He caressed her naked shoulders then. He loved her so deeply then, as they felt each other and sighed with closed eyes in bliss.

Peter opened his eyes, his heart exploding.
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(no subject) [Aug. 23rd, 2008|08:57 pm]
Lying on our backs

prettytreasures
As he was driving, the window wide open with the wind leaking in, he thought about his life as a highway. When you drive too slow and the cars zoom past you, you wonder why you're lagging. You wonder why they are so far ahead. And they go by so quickly, succeeding and reaching their destination. Point A to point B in half the time you ever could. They surpass you until you don't see the same tail lights anymore, the same people. And you feel like a failure.

Going fast in the night Luke saw the lights from the city. A blur of twinkles, representing something inside of him. And until you hit that border line where your surroundings are just the sky and dust, he wondered ..then maybe that's when you're free.
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(no subject) [Jul. 23rd, 2008|03:55 am]
Lying on our backs

prettytreasures
As Luke leaned his forhead against the window, watching the rain plunge to the ground, he thought about people. As he breathed into the glass he noticed the moister from his breath that clung onto it. So with a quick move of his hand, he pointed his finger and drew the letter "L" on the little spot. Luke watched as the vapor faded, and how the ghost of the "L" remained.

When it came to people, was it the same thing? We meet someone we like and become comfortable. We breathe effortlessly. We inhale and exhale with a steady rhythm. And when we're so deep in this solace we want to show our love. Leave a mark. So we leave our secrets with them, our possessions, our distinct laughter, new words, photographs. Something to show that we were a part of this persons life.

But in some cases, the vapor fades. And you can't draw "L"s anymore. Even though you're not together, the ghost that is you is still there. Left behind and abandoned. Your love is still legible. And it's for the other person to decide if they want it to linger. Or if they just want to wipe it away for good. Open the window and wait for a better day.

With this Luke erased the "L" with his sleeve, closed his eyes, and got on his feet.
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(no subject) [Apr. 6th, 2008|06:37 pm]
Lying on our backs

holy_fishcakes
"The things that define us are our reactions to certain situations. For some of us, overreaction is just a part of who we are. For others, it is all we are."

I never thought you would sink so low as to publicly humiliate me, and your response that no-one would have understood shouldn't even have surprised me.
You are not the same person you were a year ago, and I wish I could come to terms with it.
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(no subject) [Mar. 25th, 2008|08:16 pm]
Lying on our backs

prettytreasures
I always thought that words hit you harder. If I feel the blow, maybe it would not have been as terrible as hearing words with them, terrible ones. But after being quiet with him did I start thinking otherwise. Instead of everything being pin-pointed and exact, everything was easy when we both just knew. And it was the most comfortable thing.

Being cooped up in a small space would have sounded absurd to me a month ago, but now it has become my sanctuary. The soles of my feet would press against the cold tiles of the bathroom, and I would feel the coolness seeping up my legs, making them feel numb. But the shower mist made everything hazy, both with my thoughts and what I saw. I lifted my right leg over the tub and watched as it collected water drops. Daniel would hold my hand, as if he was escorting me, while I put myself in. I don't remember much, but I can still feel the moment when he was behind me, arms wrapped around my stomach. The water sliding down, over his fingers, like a waterfall. His warm head resting on my left shoulder, both of our eyes closed..
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(no subject) [Mar. 25th, 2008|09:14 pm]
Lying on our backs

oldmaps

 


So grab your things and go on, get out of here.
I never asked to be nobody's nothing.

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(no subject) [Mar. 23rd, 2008|11:16 am]
Lying on our backs

adventuresoflj
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(no subject) [Mar. 17th, 2008|09:40 pm]
Lying on our backs

oldmaps
[Current Location |his bedroom]

Catching signals that sound In the dark we will take off our clothes and they'll be placing fingers in the notches in your spine.

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