The cold of the weather The cold of the pain The holes in your sweater The hole in your brain The time looking forward The time standing still The cold hollow hole The time-willing will
even if for nothing other than to bend them, for in the rules, the world, we've made, you've made, and the choices, we've made, you've made, we live inside these things.
your heart lives inside these choices, and so I respect your wisdom, and your choices, and as hard as it is, I can even take comfort from how hard this is, because it is you, and us, and how strong you are, and how wise.
I won't bend the rules.
but cold turkey, that's so hard. it's cold out there, tonight, and those small puffs, they're for you.
had to change my name, I couldn't stand seeing patrick there, it made me ill for some reason, to see that name that isn't me or us on your blog made me ill. so I changed it. I almost changed it to scott. do you think that would be better? see, now I'm cheating. I'm e-mailing you. dammit. this is so fucking hard. miss. miss. missing you. in your letter I sent you a song.
5 comments:
bending
the rules a bit.
but.
I had to.
even if for nothing other than to bend them, for in the rules, the world, we've made, you've made, and the choices, we've made, you've made, we live inside these things.
your heart lives inside these choices, and so I respect your wisdom, and your choices, and as hard as it is, I can even take comfort from how hard this is, because it is you, and us, and how strong you are, and how wise.
I won't bend the rules.
but cold turkey, that's so hard.
it's cold out there, tonight, and those small puffs, they're for you.
each.
breaths. the small puffs of my breath. they're for you. I'm so tired. I left that part out somehow.
Breath.
Silver.
You.
Comfort in pain.
I'm having troubles with that one.
You're much stronger than me.
I've almost folded already.
Thank you for the puffs. My puffs are for you too. And my wheezes, sniffs, and sighs as well.
Also, I don't remember this being part of the restriction of the rules. We can bend, we can break, but we must cling to whatever we have left.
And hold on for our dear lives.
letter
is on its way to you.
it's just a little one.
but it is traveling right now, in the hands of someone else, from my hand, to yours.
had to change my name, I couldn't stand seeing patrick there, it made me ill for some reason, to see that name that isn't me or us on your blog made me ill. so I changed it. I almost changed it to scott. do you think that would be better? see, now I'm cheating. I'm e-mailing you. dammit. this is so fucking hard. miss. miss. missing you. in your letter I sent you a song.
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