Poetry and Reminder

"H-A-T-E, is that how you spell love, in your dictionary? K-I-C-K, pronounced as 'kind'.. F-U-C-K, is that how you spell 'friend', in your dictionary? Black on black, a guidebook for the blind... Well now that I can see, my eyes weren't weak. Now that I can hear, your song sounds cheap." -Dictionary, XTC

His journals remind me of my hate. Just pisses me off. But it's not about me, is it? But obviously he talked about my doll.. and what an asshole. At least he believes himself to be one. I almost pity him, but I'm too tired of that. Too much crap. I'm not going to feel anything anymore. I'm sick and tired of ... feeling. Going numb would be better, yet have I, already?

Tell me a story
how do you see me?
how can I be
what you say I to be
say I am
pretty,
smart
not
one who’s damned
to be and never be
never see
reality
and to forever,
never,
see
who i am
tell me.

“I see myself
as other people see me”
and what you say,
is what I’ll be
or am I?
or can I?
it’s hard to understand
my mind is hard
impossible to command
daydreams fool things
love and flicker
light and dark
forever bicker
cancel out
darkness thicker
tell me, tell me
what do you see?
what is me?

I am blind
to what beauty
I am blind
to what could be
lies, surprise
or truth, fool-proof?
but I can’t believe you
I can’t believe
I’ll ever be
what you say you see
maybe you think
maybe you’re blind
maybe you say
mind off the ground
hearing song and horrible sound
how can I be?

I don’t care what you look like
I dont’ care how many scars
I don’t care how ugly
you think that you are
I don’t mind
I don’t see
I am blind
soul sets me free
kind words
for kind heart
beautiful voice
and the soul is the start
of why I like you

it’s true, it’s true
there’s far too much to love
to care about a worn face
or a song voice
maybe not all in grace
but still
you’re what I’ve wanted
wrote about and forever will
what I’ve looked for
something worth heart’s fill

(and hell no, it's not about Michael.)
---

The reply.

"You are, you simple are
What more is there to say?
Not just looks, they don't matter
Just who you are, so close but so far
Good for a laugh, everyday
Could even go, for a sixteen hour chatter

Without getting bored

Creative with everything you do
From the cloths you wear to art and pictures that star you
Great voice, to both talk and sing
Kinda funny, what joy it can bring
How you can stand me, I'll never know
But pray this feeling, will never go

Funny how the future, always has something stored"


*whistles and runs off*