The wine, she invites me, as I sip, just sip, and think of the picture I saw today; Kyra's face was a sweet memory to the one, I had long forgotten. Abuse changes so much, including the way we remember things.
Nothing could take the love out of her face though. Time came back. It breathed to me once more; told me
I was worth loving- showed me
I was worth loving.
The tragedy, is not just that...but what followed. I died in ways she'd of hated in me. Gave myself over to those who'd only see garments for flesh, and hearts for prized tales to be sold amongst circles of friends.
I became barren after Kyra's love; perhaps broken by it...
and then squandered to wonder, like a lost soul, destitute and increasingly frail.
My white knight never came. Instead, life kept building up, and pressures caved...
But no...
my light never came, but in pieces;
pieces.
I am the saddest chords playing, and the sweetest of slow crying violins painting me as midnight masses; wretched I cry all over the sky; weeping in silently heavy rains.
You are my God, Johnny. My goodbye, and my invisable, wrapped all in someone I can way my woes to. Fabricated, I need you. I need to tell even the face of my journal.
It all means nothing to me, as men gain momentum with my heart, and I remember why I never dated them at all. I am already stripped, but here I remain cold. I can not love like this.
I can not love like this.
And I am doing everything to see differently. But how un-good-enough even that is.
He did everything, said everything...to push me away. I stayed, and came to... and came to...
and came to.... until I realized how trivial I am to this man. How trivial I'd always been.
I can't do it again, weeping on knees.
Dear Johnny, oh Johnny...
Won't you take this pain from me.
