I met him today.
I met you today-
the boy that will change my life.
TUESDAYTUESDAY.
my feet sink in this blindingly white carpet.
There is a trail of yellow flower petals winding its way across the floor.
I would follow it, but I'm not sure what's at the end.
I throw away my nerves and thoughts and slowly step along the path.
it's you: you're the end.
WEDNESDAYWEDNESDAY.
I lay in the dark and wait for the part that you sing to me. When I called you my little songbird, you grinned boyishly and gave me a half hearted shove that caused me to laugh until I fell to the floor, holding my sides. You held my hands like we were playing London bridge and told me that this was f o r e v e r .
THURSDAYTHURSDAY.
You pushed me into the pool, but I held your sleeve, causing you to tumble in after me. We laughed and tried to keep our heads above the surface. [You cannot float when you are dragging eachother down.] We floated perfectly. my.life.is.perfect.
FRIDAYSATURDAY.
I don't know what made him so sad,
but as he hung up the phone and turned around,
I could see his eyes were blank with shock and rapidly forming tears.
all he said was that he needed to "get out of here for a few seconds"
before he quietly shut the door.
he comes back with the stale smell of alcohol sometime early morning
and when I see his resigned look, I have a feeling that he won't ever be the same.
ever.
WEDNESDAYWEDNESDAY.
we trace our way through lemon trees and breathe in scents like a drug.
I think this will help clear your head and take your hand off the bottle.
But no,
you're too far gone.
"Hey treefall, your landing will not be graceful."
THURSDAYTHURSDAY.
"we can't float at all, anymore."
FRIDAYFRIDAY.
the droning of the airplane outside my window.
A sound that I sing to, a distraction that makes me concentrate, harder and harder.
I stare up at you with eyes that should walk right through that haze.
"God. Baby, when you open your bleary eyes, someday you'll have regrets."
Focus. Focus on me. Focus on what I'm saying.
Please.
SUNDAYSUNDAY.
Today I stood next to my lover who was passed out cold
and thought about the carnival just last Sunday, where we rode on the Ferris wheel
and kissed in the sunshine.
I continue to long for the sunshine.
Author's Comments
"I am writing this to help you remember how it was."
journal of a girl who falls in love with a boy who turns into a drunk.
Zahmen
Each day signifies something new, not a new day in the week.
Although...
The week technically starts on Sunday, unless you're going by biblical time, in which the seventh day is Sunday and also the Sabbath.
