Kinda. Sorta. Maybe. Not.

Friday, August 14, 2009

-Rafael Casal

There is nothing worse then the first week of a break-up.

The first week of a break-up is like the first time guys have sex:

It's akward, boring, and we keep telling each other were doing it right and its a lie.

The first week of a break-up,

you're on my mind more then you ever were.

So I clean everything in my apartment,
clean my way into forgeting

but then I find things I couldnt when we were together:

Your shirt, your favorite CD, reasons that i liked you,

until my room reeks of your influence.

See, I keep wanting to invite you over

but Love can't live here anymore.

She might bring her children, Jealousy and Neglect.

Those two running around my crib, always breaking shit,

and I can't ever seem to clean up fast enough.

They tend to ruin romantic moments with questions and lies

and I can see their parents when I look into their eyes,

It's you and I.

Not sure when we had them but now their living in the next room,

always barging in talking about they having nightmares,

and can they sleep with us too.

Jealousy dreams about decieving, so that's what we do.

Live out each other's nightmares until were a bed full of problems,

and solvings not a option because solutions are few.

Neglect kicks me in bed talking about I dont love her like new and Jealousy,

I know I mustve have told her that, but both of them still look so much like you.

And I thought I'd be cool,

but I still see you on corners

and in stores

and in windows I'm passing.

And conversations

and phrases

and menus

and laughing

and traffic

and song after song that they play back.

I get no time to lay back, I cant take my day back.

A song unsung that yearns to be on my tongue called "Apology"

but i will not drop the key, Its not for me.

This is how it's got to be.

They say it takes twice as long to forget as it was to get to know someone.

So now Im sitting in my room talking about 6 days down, and 6 more years to go.

This is for all the women in the room who think that men dont burn.

That when it come to heartbreak it is never our turn.

It dont matter who or what is too blame.

Because in the first week after a break-up, alone, always feels the same.

Dont watch, just listen

Songs "not" to make love to, but to fuck and fuck as much as possible to:

"Bad Habbits" - Maxwell

"Milk and Honey" - Goapele

"Slow Jams" - Tyler Woods

theres something about the Brits

Currently Streaming:

Okay i think theres just something about Bloc Party. lol.

wide awake and feeling the twilight weighing down on my shoulders. how long do i play this charade? im practicing the finite dance of a firefly attracted to the captivity of the glass jar. it wont take much. just a slight of hand gesture and make the metal and glass kiss shut. and ill be yours to keep. by your bedside, or closer.