(written late last night)
i remember when i got my crayola treasure chest of crayons, every color crayola had made. so many beautiful colors. a perfect ideal. tonight, one of them was lost.
silent tears are are the worst. too scared to get mad and too sad to speak up at all. sometimes i feel too nice and other times i feel my dad inside me, the snapping i think i can't control. tonight i said good night to an empty face with my own broken lips. part of the child is still in me.
i looked forward to tonight. we colored repeating patterns under colored lights in silence. i wanted to speak, to find out what was new and if everything was well. i wanted the intimacy of deep conversation so i can know more from someone who means most.
what is wrong with me? i blame myself because i can't blame others.
currently spinning: modest mouse: talking shit