Lost_and_fallen
June 4th, 2005, 03:52 PM
It doesn't matter how tight you close your eyes against it.
It doesn't matter how hard you press your hands against your ears.
You can bite your tongue until it bleeds and clench your fists until your nails dig into your palms, but it wont stop it hurting.
You can stand strong, root your feet to the stone floor.
You can curl into a tight ball in one corner and hide.
You can return the violence and feel the anger bounce straight back into your body, but it wont stop it hurting.
It makes no difference if you run till you collapse or you just turn and walk away.
It makes no difference if you lock the door or leave it open.
You can beg and plead and reach for the phone, but you know that you'll never have the heart to dial those three goddam numbers.
It wont change anything.
Because he will never understand what he's doing, and nor will you, and that's what keeps you trapped here, in this time loop with not enough air and the sickly stench of blood.
You know he's never sorry, he'll never show any remorse, or check if you're ok when he's done, or question the justification of his actions, but that's because he's still so naive and honestly sees no fault in what he does.
And that's why you forgive him, time and time again.
That's why you sometimes unplug the phone and put it in a cupboard, just to make sure you don't forget your logic or your love and dial those three goddam numbers.
That's why you're gonna lie in bed tonight and hate yourself for allowing this to happen again.
For still loving him and seeing why he does it.
For it being your fault that he does it.
.....And for not hating him.
And there'll be no point in picking up your blade.
There'll be no point in dialing those numbers.
There'll be no point in asking him to stop.
Because you're numb to the blade, and you'll only hang up the phone anyway, and he'll never realise that what he does is wrong.
Nothing ever changes here.
It's all your fault anyway.
It doesn't matter how hard you press your hands against your ears.
You can bite your tongue until it bleeds and clench your fists until your nails dig into your palms, but it wont stop it hurting.
You can stand strong, root your feet to the stone floor.
You can curl into a tight ball in one corner and hide.
You can return the violence and feel the anger bounce straight back into your body, but it wont stop it hurting.
It makes no difference if you run till you collapse or you just turn and walk away.
It makes no difference if you lock the door or leave it open.
You can beg and plead and reach for the phone, but you know that you'll never have the heart to dial those three goddam numbers.
It wont change anything.
Because he will never understand what he's doing, and nor will you, and that's what keeps you trapped here, in this time loop with not enough air and the sickly stench of blood.
You know he's never sorry, he'll never show any remorse, or check if you're ok when he's done, or question the justification of his actions, but that's because he's still so naive and honestly sees no fault in what he does.
And that's why you forgive him, time and time again.
That's why you sometimes unplug the phone and put it in a cupboard, just to make sure you don't forget your logic or your love and dial those three goddam numbers.
That's why you're gonna lie in bed tonight and hate yourself for allowing this to happen again.
For still loving him and seeing why he does it.
For it being your fault that he does it.
.....And for not hating him.
And there'll be no point in picking up your blade.
There'll be no point in dialing those numbers.
There'll be no point in asking him to stop.
Because you're numb to the blade, and you'll only hang up the phone anyway, and he'll never realise that what he does is wrong.
Nothing ever changes here.
It's all your fault anyway.