Monday, December 04, 2006

come f**k me up


"Come Pick Me Up" ~ Ryan Adams "Heartbreaker"

When they call your name Will you walk right up With a smile on your face Or will you cower in fear In your favorite sweater With an old love letter

I wish you would I wish you would Come pick me up Take me out Fuck me up Steal my records Screw all my friends They're all full of shit With a smile on your face And then do it again I wish you would

When you're walking downtown Do you wish I was there Do you wish it was me With the windows clear and the mannequins eyes Do they all look like mine

You know you could I wish you would Come pick me up Take me out Fuck me up Steal my records Screw all my friends behind my back With a smile on your face And then do it again I wish you would

I wish you'd make up my bed So I could make up my mind Try it for sleeping instead Maybe you'll rest sometime I wish I could



i find that my heart keeps running back to this song and the ache of it. sitting with a lost relationship and longing for it with all the awareness of the pain it has caused. funny isn't it how hearing a voice or seeing a picture of someone you have loved but haven't had contact with for a while brings to the surface all the history of feelings you have had with them. even if those feeling are years old and buried they rise up afresh like it happened yesterday. the wounds flare up fresh with new blood, unresponsive to the tourniquet of growth and truth you wrap around you flowing heart and mind. it oozes out of each bandage you lay on the ache to stop it from bleeding over your life again. but you can't stop it and the desire coats eveything thick with the headiness and ache of that empty hole. the space where that person "should" be. my heart aches that way.

1 comment:

hawk said...

of course, i quite understand .......nearly as in "my hole is bigger than yours, hurts worse and sucks more"--like that; except, i'm way better off without her. it's the love part that hurts, and warmth of her physical presence when she's sane and reasonably sober. the hole ensures that i need never wonder why i absorbed untolled abuse for so long. how long. and how long will it be before critical mass impels me to toy with the notion that i'd rather be abused than one more day or night alone. without. so in need of healthy distractions despite that they never last long enough.

some things will always just really suck.
best of luck.....