Tuesday, March 30, 2010

Swimming in my pool of blood.

[Here's a couple things I've thought about today. They have a similar theme, so I feel justified posting them together. The first is to a boy I've only said one sentence to in my life, and the second is to a very close friend. Enjoy.]

Critical

I'll sit here in silence, don't be bothered by me. Keep calling that girl a "troll". You're cool-and you know it, so just talk, talk away. Your ego's too big not to show.

Oh yes, she's not perfect, and neither is she, but have you looked in the mirror of late? Your finger keeps pointing, your words, they keep taunting-you're ugly. Stop calling them names.

When one finger points, there are three pointing back; back at you, boy, right there in your face. So make fun of her voice, or that other girl's words. You're just mad you don't have half their grace.

If I could tune out one voice in this loud, loud world, right now I'd have it be yours. I'm much better off missing your negative air and the arrogance with which you choke.




Tearing me down

I've never been one to rudely joke. What I pretend, I become. I've tried not to be rude. Therefore, I don't joke that way; or I don't try to on a regular basis. Habit becomes you, after all.

I suppose I believe everyone else should be this way. I suppose, because what I pretend I become, that everyone else must become rude with their own rude jokes. It's only natural.

What's funny to some inadvertently stabs me. And I can't bring myself to rip the knife out and hand it back as I bleed.

I just let it pierce me.

With each breath it hurts, and I can't stand to focus on the pain because that only makes it worse. I become more agonized if I remember the knife. So I ignore it.

And I bleed.

So thank you, best friend, for stabbing me again. Thank you for your two knifes today. You, like them all, suppose I'm "adult" enough-hard hearted enough-to let the knives glance off. Unfortunately, I'm not as careless as you. I'm not as desensitized.

Thus, I bleed.

And I'd return the knife, but I'm sure you don't need another.


"And it kind of hurts when the kind of words you say kind of turn themselves into blades. Kind and courteous is a life I've heard..."
-Beautiful Mess, Jason Mraz

No comments:

Post a Comment

Popular Posts

About Me

My photo
I'm a Mormon. I'm a writer. I'm a theatre-enthusiast. I'm an improviser. I'm a cake-decorator. I'm a Jason Mraz fan. I'm a poet. I'm a slob. And I'm happy you're reading.