what happens when you times molly by four, (too many stories in my head)
Too many things unfurled
i told him my stories.
Too many things unfurled
i told him my stories.
What happens when you split. Or when what you thought was real splits.
i did this thing with my sister on the phone this morning called "withhold" where she pretends to be him and I say all the things I withheld. and whenever I run out or break down she says "Thank-you. Now what have you withheld?" I went over and over. And sobbing sometimes, and sometimes nothing more to say. I learned something. as much as i feel like i can't say things quite right (because he never hears me, he never receives what i say, he says over and over to me, You're wrong --basically. But I said it, I said things through. I said what I had to say, and I realized something, that sometimes that's enough, and i'll never be able to make anyone get it.
i did this thing with my sister on the phone this morning called "withhold" where she pretends to be him and I say all the things I withheld. and whenever I run out or break down she says "Thank-you. Now what have you withheld?" I went over and over. And sobbing sometimes, and sometimes nothing more to say. I learned something. as much as i feel like i can't say things quite right (because he never hears me, he never receives what i say, he says over and over to me, You're wrong --basically. But I said it, I said things through. I said what I had to say, and I realized something, that sometimes that's enough, and i'll never be able to make anyone get it.
It's the same panic-ed places. the same dispair, the same not being able to hold falseness. the false things he tried to give me.
I realized I don't have to figure it out. I don't have to figure out how to express it just right. And I don't have to express it.
No comments:
Post a Comment