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Color the water (for ryan: how i never really knew you)

Contributed by iodinelove on Tuesday, 7th February 2006 @ 08:08:54 PM in AEST
Topic: EmotionalPoetry

Hello, old friend.
I have come to you again to write upon you, and to know the comforts of your betrayals. How is it, Amy, that in you I find so much peace? So long you have been departed; so long have you slept, dreaming the dreams of sorrow. I do not think on you often; the day passes and your name is lost to the moments of my own life. But when I am down, when I am alone and disgraced, lamed, naked on cold linoleum stone, my thoughts increase you.
In you I hold so much guilt. In you, I am the weeping child scalded by my dreams.
In you I am free Amy, and yet the life that you loved so very much, binds me and holds me to my place.
Do you remember Ryan, Amy? How you and I and sandy and he fought the old drunk man off with rotten tennis shoes? How we had danced drunk through the streets with our Southern Comfort and beer? He's dead now, Amy. A bullet in the brain in some Hawaiian motel.
How I wish I could say so many beautiful things about him. How I wish I could color the clear, clean water doused with blood and brain. But there is no other way Amy.
Ryan is dead.
We are all dying Amy. John and Sandy. Liz. Amanda sits quietly crying in her sleep; the deepest saddest sleep that I have ever seen.
I love you, Amy, and I will write again, to know the sweet, sweet moment of your empty clarity.

Love always,

Copyright © iodinelove ... [ 2006-02-07 20:08:54]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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