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i was crying when i met you
there was a time
i was remembering ninth grade today. i was only fourteen, and i'd lost much of my innocence two years before. and yet, i was so young. i didn't know how many mistakes i had left to make. how there were things that could happen to me, that i couldn't blame on other people
when i was so broken hearted
i had just cut off my hair, the strands that had long since knotted into a single dreadlock. i was letting my face show, for the first time in two years, and it didn't do any good. no one really wanted to look at it anyway. no one that i saw.
love wasn't much of a friend of mine...
i was thinking about that today, about a girl who walked through central park, singing as loudly as she could, with a few others (never singing the harmony part though, 'cause she couldn't keep the pitch.)
...now there's not even breathing room, between pleasure and pain
about that girl who was always in love with the unattainable, who got hit by a car as she sang Aerosmith on the intersection of 96th and Madison... who thought that requited love would appease all those demons, and exorcise the envy and make it all float away.
yeah, you cry when we're making love, must be one and the same
the same one who thought that tears joined with lovemaking would be inexpressibly and utterly romantic.
i miss her sometimes.
i was remembering ninth grade today. i was only fourteen, and i'd lost much of my innocence two years before. and yet, i was so young. i didn't know how many mistakes i had left to make. how there were things that could happen to me, that i couldn't blame on other people
when i was so broken hearted
i had just cut off my hair, the strands that had long since knotted into a single dreadlock. i was letting my face show, for the first time in two years, and it didn't do any good. no one really wanted to look at it anyway. no one that i saw.
love wasn't much of a friend of mine...
i was thinking about that today, about a girl who walked through central park, singing as loudly as she could, with a few others (never singing the harmony part though, 'cause she couldn't keep the pitch.)
...now there's not even breathing room, between pleasure and pain
about that girl who was always in love with the unattainable, who got hit by a car as she sang Aerosmith on the intersection of 96th and Madison... who thought that requited love would appease all those demons, and exorcise the envy and make it all float away.
yeah, you cry when we're making love, must be one and the same
the same one who thought that tears joined with lovemaking would be inexpressibly and utterly romantic.
i miss her sometimes.
no subject
someone always did.
no subject
thanks for reminding me.
and you know
but
you know...
is it a full moon or something?
Re: you know...