Monday, December 29, 2008
Jupiter.
And as I sit here with an open suitcase in front of me I think about the things I choose to keep with me. The memories don't ever leave me. They haunt me like a skeleton in my closet that I push aside everytime I go in. I still have that bottle of red wine that we finished. Our lips were stained crimson, and we felt so warm. We would watch movies and liken the people we knew to the fictional characters. Nobody was ever real to us, just hearts and blood. I made you smoke your cigarettes in my shower because I didn't want the basement to smell like nicotine and tar. I'm sorry.
I remember so many parking lots and you never knew how beautiful you truly were. You never listened to me.
I don't know if they cared about you. I still get angry when I think about all those nights and that day.
So many faces I knew. I knew they didn't know. I knew they didn't feel anything inside. Their tears were not for the right reasons. He stood at the back so your mom wouldn't see him.
I wish I could have saved your heart.
