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the bitch
There's nothing interesting about me, except the fact that I really should stop switching blogs.
bitch de nuit
Another pretentious way of saying "Bitch, please."
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Sunday, November 9, 2008
Brown Eyes
When love falls apart, and your life unceremoniously follows suit, there's a mandatory three-step dance that follows. There's the self-loathing when you question your role in every wrong committed; the grieving, unfortunately obligatory for a love lost, and then comes the healing bit which according to every book ever written, "takes time".
What the books forgot to mention, are the moments. The moments when in a split second, occurred by the slightest scent or sight, throws you from utter oblivion to an insane spiral back to square one in volumes unfit for the human heart. The flashbacks are cruelty at best, and the words to define what I feel for you are lost on my fingertips.
You won the break-up, hardly fair nor square, but you won anyway. You won before I even had a fighting chance, scratch that, I wasn't even given one. You stole my perception of perfection, and destroyed, along with me, the best 8 months of my life. You crossed my heart with lies, leaving me speechless and wounded beyond repair.
And with all that, you still have the cheek to ask me what I really want from you.
You will never know as clearly as I did 10 months ago as I do now.
0 anal amy
