She had a face straight outta magazine
God only knows but you’ll never leave her
Her balaclava is starting to chafe
And when she gets his gun he’s begging, “Babe, stay, stay, stay, stay, stay.”
You imagine the kind of love he had before you. That last heartache he’ll never forget. Then you imagine what it feels like to be a man who was left behind. He still had her photographs hanging on the walls of his 4-walled room. The frames are polished to perfection, it looks out of place in his trashy, smoke-filled space. Her scarlet scarf is still in his drawer where she last left it, and he said it still smells like her. He said the words so beautifully and silently that you’re pretty sure you can hear your own heart shatter.
He’s sleeping beside you and you looked at him in awe, thinking how lucky she was and how she lose it all.
You wrote something on a piece of tissue paper and left.
* * *
I’ll give you one more time,
We’ll give you one more fight,
Said one more line,
Will I know you?
You were driving in the city and you don’t want to admit that you’re lost, just like you don’t want to admit that you’re the one who’s falling on a game that you started. There are bright and blinking lights everywhere but they all seem lifeless to you.
He called you and asked you to come over – after four months of no communication – and you willingly agree. You’re still fighting after all this time, without knowing that somebody already won and that’s not you. He’s everything you ever wanted, and he’s everything that you can never have. But it doesn’t matter because you love him and he wants you.
* * *
Now everybody’s dead
And they’re driving past my old school
He’s got his gun, he’s got his suit on
She says, “Babe, you look so cool,”
You go through his apartment’s already familiar hallways, and it’s funny because it smelled a lot like rain. You were still pondering about your stupidity for coming over when you already know what will happen. You knock on his door and starts to bite your lower lip out of anxiety, it’s an old habit that you have, and he hates it.
He finally opens the door and smiles. And that smile broke you down for the first time in this one and a half year affair. Because it was that kind of smile that assures you he’ll never let you go again now. It was a smile of relief, of gratitude. He takes you inside his blue room and you were surprised how different it is now.
There are no more photos hanging in his room. You look on the battered nightstand and there’s a tissue paper with words in your own handwriting.
“When you already know what you want, call me.”
* * * * *
Okay, I’m trying to do something different here. I’m trying to defy the norms of blogging (if there’s any.) So I’m trying to incorporate images with a certain song and see what kind of emotions will take place. Let me clarify that this is just an experiment and I have no idea if somebody already did this kind of shit. The photos and the song belong to their rightful owners (please see below.)
So tell me, what do you think? 🙂
Here are my other literary works.
*photos are from Scott Brown and Associates, song is from The 1975.