As Soon As I Get Ahold Of You, I'll Cry And I'll Beg You To Never Let Go Of Me Again.
As soon as I get ahold of you, I'll cry and I'll beg you to never let go of me again.
More Posts from Apottovan
Photo Story Prompt.
Source: http://themetapicture.com/these-pictures-are-what-dreams-are-made-of/
I Fear the Day I know I’m getting older, it’s a fact of life. Maybe one day they will replace me with something new, but I’m not sure of how they will be. Perhaps one day they will replace me with something younger, more agile, more lively. Something that will be able to do my job better than me, but not for nearly as long. I have to keep him safe. He is so small, too small. I know he will get bigger, as all things do, but I fear that I will not be around for those days. On bad days, I can’t keep up with him. I was fast, once, but now that my joints ache and fail, I know if he runs too far, I won’t be able to protect him. On cold winter days, I know most other things are sleeping. Maybe that’s when he’s safest, when I, along with most other things, are too cold and tired to do anything. But, this is when he is a danger to himself. He is uncoordinated, and I fear that he will slip and fall into the frozen-over pond, crack the ice, and drown. How will I help him then? I am too big and heavy to follow him out there, and the cold hurts me so. Yet, whenever he toddles to the door, hat, mittens, scarf and all, I still rise and follow him out there into the snow. Maybe I don’t give his mother enough credit. She is still strong and I can’t possibly keep up with her now. Maybe she won’t replace me with something new, but simply herself. Maybe she will do a better job than I ever could. I know she will outlast me. I hope she will keep him safe after I am gone. I’m so tired, I should go to sleep, but I can’t bring myself to take my eyes off him. He is my responsibility, and I fear the day I can no longer open my eyes and watch over him. I know that day will come soon, so I must do my best while I still can. I know I will be gone soon, yet, he keeps me going. I wish him the best of luck when I’m gone, and to stay away from the water that causes me such grief.
Fathoms
Can you trust the empty fathoms? Those dark ravines in your mind? That meaningless void inside, The cracks and the holes that cover you?
Can you even perceive the immeasurable despair that fills you? That seeps inside your bones like the lonely cold, That gnaws on your corpse like the cat you neglected to feed?
Can you even understand the pain you have caused in yourself? The suffering you have wrought from your absence? The tragedy that will come when you fail to open your eyes and see the world again?
No. You cannot trust yourself to be kind. You cannot perceive yourself, not truly. You cannot understand the joy I feel around you.
You are immeasurable, Cold, Dark, And alone.
Your heart is a ship lost at sea, A child left on a doorstep, The only painting in a museum, A puddle of blood being washed away in the rain.
You look in the mirror and say, “Loveless” “Forgettable” “Inadequate”
But I look in your eyes and whisper contradictions. “Loved, at least by one.” “Will always be remembered, even in little ways.” “Absolutely perfect in my mind.”
Remember that I will be your lighthouse, Your blanket when you feel cold, Your companion when you feel alone, And your light when you only feel the dark.
Talk To Me
“how was your day?”
“talk to me”
“don't get involved”
This is the first time I've ever said anything
“Nothing” “does anything good” “in this situation” “so” “dont” “get” “involved”
It's too late
I say one thing
“why do you want more problems in your life?”
It's my problem when he- It's my problem when he's- It's my problem because I-
“So what do you do when you become a problem?”
I'm already leaving I'm already on my way out
“you just want to make it worse?”
It's not about making it worse
It's about being near him
“i have one question”
“When did you join the drama program?”
you told me to talk about it
“I was belittling you.”
Sticky Notes
You found my notes Crumpled in the trash
You pulled them out, Read them one
By one
By one
They start out simple, A couple of doodles here and there
But then I ramble
Each note a new word Or phrase
Your eyes pore over each word, Mouth slightly agape
You had settled into the notion That I was as sane as I appeared
But the notes say different
You notice a trend in the letters, All scribbled and hastily drawn,
Like the pen couldn’t get them out fast enough
The ramblings of madness, Obsessed with the worth of the author
There’s one word, Repeated over
And Over
And Over
D I S A P P O I N T M E N T
Here are those hastily written words:
“I love you” “so, so much”
“Too bad” “I’m nothing” “Next to those stars” “You compare me to”
“I’m a” “Disappointment”
“Bad at” “EVERYTHING”
“Disappointment” “Disappointment” “Disappointment”