Simple things like not answering a telephone call.
It’s a basic and direct form of contact, especially when you know the person you are trying to call never leaves the phone out of their reach. So what does it mean when they don’t then answer?
I have trust.
Trust which wanes and then builds like a blade of grass twisting in the wind, depending on the strength of the blowing gust. The stronger, the more pushed into the ground it is and rendered non-existent. Then a calm takes over, replacing doubt and anxiety with the obvious innocent reason. But the reason takes too long, and the blade of grass has been bent into the cold sodden earth for what seems an eternity, allowing rot and decay to infect what was green and good.
And god, how I hate the Green. I cant blame if for all the bad between us, but it’s the third person lurking in the corner that I never want to smile at, welcome or want to let it breathe at all. In fact I would rather rip that little weed into a thousand unusable pieces and burn it, and dance upon the useless ashes. Unspoken, yet so badly needed all the while. What does that make me? Second best to the thing that makes him forget who is, encouraging me to join in this debauched downfall?
I forget, how can he ever have encouraged me when I asked in the first place.
I know it’s disgusting.
Please simply answer my telephone call and I can bury this sick rose.
Friday, 2 January 2009
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