NOT devasted

"What do you think I think you think about me?" 

At least I'm just lost in the right direction.
Slowly I'll become the "right kind of crazy".

This is the time we sat in the car. I can't remember if it was before or after we got out and for some reason that matters a lot.


I dream of her falling asleep on my shoulder again.
I dream of it at morning and at night, although I know I shouldn't. It doesn't seem right to dream a dream that won't come true.
Something I hate about myself: I try to pull back memories to make me feel something again.

So I think of her falling asleep on my shoulder again.
I could feel her weight getting heavier as she fell
in and out
of sleep.
Our bodies warm under that heavy blanket.
Her arm pulled around my waist.
It lay sleeping like the sleeve of my sweater sometimes.
The energy we created, and the heat, was simple. Just that simple kind of touch is something I want back.
I told her I loved her that night. That might've been the very first time.
It was taking everything I had not to kiss her right then, and I told her that too.


Now I'm wondering if that girl was just a reciprocation of my infatuation. What if that's true... and every gesture, every movement, all those words, every laugh was only to tease me and my balancing act.

It wasn't a breeze for me to be in love, but this girl made it look easy. I thought that just meant I was out of practice.
I think about what the inside of a heart must look like and, gosh, it's disgusting. I know you know that.
I think of her.. playing with my heart in her hands.
Tossing it back and forth,
rubbing it between her palms while she's having a casual conversation with somebody.
Playing with my heart until it rubs raw.


All my feeling's are just memories now.

I don't know why I've still got her memories.
or have they got me?
I really don't know, but I know that they're not setting me free.


"I know what you're saying and all I can say is that I know that you know that you're wrong."