I don’t think you understand me. When my eyes row with yours and you whisper your sweet lullabies and sing me songs of summer and rain, you make it so easy for me to believe you. When you say it through the air and wisp my skin with promises I’m still playing them over and over like worn cassettes buried in my closet nine hours later. I’m still straining to remember every word so I can wrap your sentences and stammers with cotton thread and store them behind my ribs where a few thousand others are screaming for air. Right now I can’t remember what you said after your mouth spread across your skin and you swore Cambridge was a type of cheese. I think it was then you gave up and let out a sigh I took as defeat and proclaimed my win while smugly worshiping my back with hammering pats. You couldn’t bear it and I couldn’t stop so you crushed me against the grass until our eyes met and all we could do was stare.

For 18 minutes I lived in your eyes and swam in seven different shades of blue and green and rays of warm black. They pointed me to glitches and cracks and threw me into spirals down your throat. I watched you run from a blur of dogs and felt the crusting iron as you leaped over the fence into the park. I saw the marbles you lost to Sam, the boy with fat freckles and spots strewn like messy paint over his face. I touched your tears as the trickling streams of failure flowed into twelve lined buckets with rusty handles. I watched your sister through a hole in the wall press a cigarette into her stomach and wondered with you while the smoke came out. You whiffed the blood twelve seconds after, and I winced as she lit another. The itch crept across my arm while you squirmed out of the green oversized sweater the same way I’m pulled away from the cracks I’ve been slipping through. While I’m sealing scraps of your life with cotton thread again and bundling your tears and crusting iron I don’t think you
understand me.

##

i've started writing a bit with a little help from a little reading rampage ive been on, burying my face in books on the bus & indulging in *jinnwoo's lovely work. i guess ill try to continue writing if my brain permits me, but we'll see.

oh, and ive entered this one in a couple of contests but so far i'm only required to reference this to the born again contest:
[link]

alright, enjoy =}