the butt of our first cigarette together
the frayed map of the city
the business card of the café
a bracelet I never wore
letters
from everyone back home
asking me what the hell I was doing there
and when was I going to come home
my box
of belief
the only thing I keep
to tell me that it isn’t a dream
wasn’t a dream
About Me
- justsomethoughts...
- that picture is "the dude" from the movie "the big lebowski". an entertaining movie. no, i'm not really much like him at all. more like walter. but i figured that i can always change the picture, right?
8 comments:
tight post...those memories we hold onto...i had to bury my box, to exorcise the ghost...
...
hard for me to comment.
but great post.
mr miller - thank you. i cant bury the box though. i'm afraid i'd jump in after it.
laughing still - thank you. but you can give it a shot :)
Personally, I like the dream version better sometimes.
those boxes are bittersweet. i found that once i thoroughly examined my box i could finally tuck it away for good.
goddess - sometimes. all depends on the dream, i guess.
creative one - a thorough examination is probably in order.
Ah. This made me a little sad.
I actually keep a large envelope at work, the remains of a relationship I killed with my own bare hands. Pictures, notes, letters. Loved him passionately, and the end was as dreadful as the beginning was passionate. Still can't bear to think about it.
Ack.
Pearl
pearl - i'm sorry. it's amazing what we are capable of.
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