Untitled, For Lack of a Better Name

(The words in italics are to the song "Half a Week Before the Winter" by Vanessa Carlton. They are not mine.)

I could feel the walls melting away around me. Too many things were happening at once. All these confusions flailing around me like a hurricane.

Overwhelmed.

Half a week before the winter

The chill bites before it comes

After all those times trying to listen, trying to comprehend. Me, trying to communicate to a brick wall with painstakingly thought out puns. It was all for nothing. She won't hear me. She never does.

It takes a demon with a megaphone to get a word through the walls that surround her head. Or an elder with logic to knock some sense into her.

It's just no use.

And I'm a child of the pleasure

That he brings before he runs

There was a time when I could have a conversation with her that wasn't made up entirely of lies, but that image faded away long ago. In the time before she "escaped" to her imaginary land of loneliness, she was kind, and trustworthy.

Could have fooled me.

He sits behind a desk of mahogany

He whispers dreams into my ear

We used to tell each other everything. Whispering dark fantasies to one another in the early morning light. Used to talk, sing, listen, and write without telling one mistruth. It's a shame she's too far away to understand.

We had big dreams. None fulfilled. Probably never would be, but there's always that one sliver of dreadful hope. That one thread tying me to her. Giving me the weak unwanted support to hang onto the only thing I never knew I didn't want.

And though I've given him his empire

He delivers me my fear

When we met, all those years ago, she had no one. No friends in this new place she was forced to call home. I wanted to give her friendship, not only with me, but with others as well. I introduced myself.

Over the years, she had gotten more friends. Some better than me, some just the same. I never thought she'd want to throw me away altogether.

What have I done to deserve this guilt?

The unicorns are riding high

Powerful in coats of white

I turn to look, but burn my eyes

I carry on, I carry...

She's changed. I've changed. Everyone changes at one time or another. Problems get in the way of less important things. She gets problems and I try to help her through this seemingly endless tunnel called life.

When I offer to add my knowledge to hers, she rejects me and I turn harshly away. Trying not to feel hurt. I guess she doesn't need anyone's help.

Doesn't need my help.

All the weight of empty promise

Forever? That's a long time. I tell myself relationships like this will last through all the struggle of forever. I'm guessing I was wrong.

Her white lies have gone over that line into the dark side. It hurts to think of how it could come to this. She's gone betraying my trust, and pulling the crowd towards her opinions and games.

As I stand swallowed by the light

Flickering above the highway

I hold my head and know the streets are mine tonight

All these little wounds cut into the palm of my hand has made it hard to hold on any longer. I know I have to do something about it, but I don't know what.

I will fix this. I'm not letting go. I won't ignore what is going on and I certainly won't follow your way of handling issues concerning communication.

The vampires are growing tired

The coats of white all turn to red

My heart burns with desire

But how can I fix this without you talking? Illegible words on a scrap of meaningless paper won't do. Are you afraid to speak? Afraid to tell me how you feel to my face?

Well then keep it inside, but it's only going to get worse. Emotions all bottled up will burst in full force, and keep you from the things you really want.

There's nothing to win here, so why are you fighting? We will both lose if it keeps on like this. Both tire and waste away. Maybe luck will be on our side and we'll soon forget. My hope is being swayed away from that.

So here's your chance to change it. Make a decision. It's now or never.

I carry on, I carry on

B.A.S.