The worst part, this no longer feels like living. 

H.

 

Come on skinny love, just last the year
Pour a little salt, we were never here
My, my, my, my, my, my, my, my
Staring at the sink of blood and crushed veneer

I tell my love to wreck it all
Cut out all the ropes and let me fall
My, my, my, my, my, my, my, my
Right at the moment this order's tall
 

And I told you to be patient
And I told you to be fine
And I told you to be balanced
And I told you to be kind

And in the morning, I'll be with you
But it will be a different kind
'Cause I'll be holding all the tickets
And you'll be owning all the fines

Come on skinny love, what happened here?
Suckle on the hope in light brassiere
My, my, my, my, my, my, my, my
Sullen load is full, so slow on the split

And I told you to be patient
And I told you to be fine
And I told you to be balanced
And I told you to be kind

And now all your love is wasted
Then who the hell was I?
'Cause now I'm breaking at the britches
And at the end of all your lines

Who will love you?
Who will fight?
Who will fall far behind?

Come on skinny love
My, my, my, my, my, my, my, my
My, my, my, my, my, my, my, my

I guess the ultimate irony is the discovery of a series of never-posted blogs, saying everything I feel I need to. Go me, always efficient.


H.

'Well honestly I'm still slightly confused but thank you for explaining'

'It was very sexual. I got to a point where I just hid the Facebook notifications.'

'I really don't understand that boy at all'

'I can only vaguely remember doing something like that on the Internet, but I can't honestly tell you if it was a dating site or something else now.'

'This is even better than that movie... sorry.'

'Don't ever feel foolish for trusting, that's what relationships are about.'

'I find myself reading up on Blanche. Wow, it fits almost perfectly. Good call.'

H.

This ain't a good time, but when is it ever?
I know the perfect time; but maybe that's never.

You know those mornings you check the weather before leaving the house, trying to decide what to wear? You know it's going to rain sooner or later, but for some strange reason you leave the umbrella at home, probably in an attempt to fool yourself into thinking the morning sunshine would last forever.

I can understand why you're afraid. I can understand how you came to be. But I just still can't understand you.

I'm just not sure when love and hurt began to mean the same thing.


Okay, it's on you. You can hurt me tomorrow.


H.