and we all have our stories ...

i thought and felt tonight for a little while that it was me, that i was the reason these things went wrong. but you know they aren't. maybe sometimes they were. maybe sometimes i broke hearts like mine was broken. after two of these random episodes that seem to last forever and are such bad choices... i have to accept in the end that it is fate that brings us where we are. i know this. but god was i stupid and god didn't i think? and how could i let myself believe that way not once, but twice in the wrong thing? or did i make it the wrong thing? i guess we all have our stories.

in the end

i carry my anger in a suitcase
every shade of rage tucked away
for the day i might see you
but would i throw it
straight at you ...
or just walk away?
you took and you took
and i gave.
and in the end
it's all in the end
anyway.
i carry my rage in a suitcase
every lie from your lips packed away
for the right time
but would i say it
or just run away?
you hurt and you hurt
and i died.
and in the end
it's all just the end
anyway.


read me your favorite line

there must have been some great book
from where you read your part
read me your favorite line again
all those pretty words
they rolled so effortlessly off your tongue
and oh, how i believed them.
they must have been taken from some classic
leatherbound sacred edition of text
your favorite pages carefully worn
those words you said so many times
so well rehearsed your beautiful lies.
take it down just once more
pull it out, your scripted heart
there's just one more last bedtime
for you to read your favorite line.


thank you fate for bringing me someone who reminds that you have to weed the garden to find the flowers