non sucicidle, suicide
she sees it. she looks away. Why wont she look, see and believe for once, that her daughter is unhappy, and suicidle? Why?
She turns back to the television set, and asked what it is that I have planned for the evening. "Nothing" I reply and go back to my room. The room where I spend every moment of my free life, thinking about the end of it.
I stay there. Thinking. Listening. Listening to the on-going noise of the television set. Music something or other. Then anouther music something or other. And again.
I get up, turn of the T.V. and think about what it is that I want to do. "I want to write". Not write like I usually do. But rather, a song. Song lyrics.
I haven't done it yet, but it would be nice.
The niceness of non suicidle lyrics. Ahhh, what a victory that would be.
posted by eryn at 7:12 PM
2 Comments:
let them turn out however they are. If you write them, show me. And your mother is trying not to see. If you want her to know, make it so she can't ignore it. If you don't know what you want, accept that this is your burden and that your mother is making herself too weak in that respect to lift it off of you. We're still here if you want a break. Love you more than the poetic beauty of clouds moving while we lie still.
4:15 PM
Yeah, she doesn't want to see it, so she doesn't. I hope that maybe she'll come to terms with it sometime. And as for that song, go ahead. Write your heart out. When you do write it, show me, I'd like to see it.Good luck. Love you.
2:37 AM
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