March 28th, 2008

what excuses can i make for the mistakes i have made? it doesn't matter how my skin stretches, the tear of my youth, as long as it delivers what it was made for. but what if it doesn't, like it didn't that night? what if i stopped it, like i did? i don't think it would matter because we'd keep trying, and i'd keep throwing away the promises i made to my psyche or my friends or my body. just like i tried with him, a different time, both before and after you. both above and below you, where you stay, where you perch. where i silently apologize and beat myself up over my actions or my consequences, my betrayal or my loyalty. i think it's all the same now once i look into those eyes of yours, that color i can never remember, but i'm convinced that they're blue. we'll be side-by-side in good time, but i don't think that matters to you, and that makes it matter less.