I was trying to make my fingers bleed while playing the guitar. Because that shows dedication. Obviously.
What I was doing unconsciously though, was keeping my poor little heart locked up very tight in its cage of ribs.
I was looking for my kicks in those mad eyes. The only eyes I liked to stare at because they were so beautiful. Eyes I denied loving, because it seemed at that time, such a bourgeois thing to do. Falling in love. I never fell in love.
The only time I felt alive or in love was when wheels moved beneath me. I’d forget which city, which life, which lie I was leading. I’d dream freely. I could be anywhere. And I always hoped you’d be there too. Always. Someone I could share my report card and fake gold medals with. You’d laugh. You’d be dismissive. You’d be jealous. But you’d be there. Pervasive. Difficult to ignore. You’d be there. And you strangely, are.
And you're beautiful, as always. I hope you know that.