pennylane731's Diaryland Diary

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mix cds: an ode to the empty spaces in photo albums

i somehow believe
the song reminds you
of someone (not me)

listening is torture,
as i try to replace
my overactive imagination
with my own image

i could compile a list
of my own songs, just so
and it would be a mix cd
that i'd never listen to

fond memories don't exist for me
i have erased pictures
eyes to be replaced with eyes
lips to be replaced with lips

it's odd to me; how could heartbreak possibly be translated into a wistful smile?

the past is pain - repeatedly stabbing the regret into my chest
not even a second of bliss can last

deafened by my screams,
suicide songs,
teardrops in paperbags,
aching bones and muscles,
pushpins and paperclips,
blood on the wall,
doors burst through, and the merlot-painted embarrassment

and you can tell everybody this is your song...

10:34 p.m. - 2005-01-27

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