Friday, 6 February 2009

Letter to the Ex - No 2



On my birhday in 2006, I played this endlessly,
and sobbed like I was Bridget Jones.

This is no great illusion
When I'm with you I'm looking for a ghost
Or invisible reasons
To fall out of love and run screaming from our home

Because we live in a house of mirrors
We see our fears and everything
Our songs, faces, and second hand clothes
But more and more we're suffering
Not nobody, not a thousand beers
Will keep us from feeling so all alone

But you are what you love
And not what loves you back
That's why I'm here on your doorstep
Pleading for you to take me back

The phone is a fine invention
It allows me to talk endlessly to you
About nothing disguising my intentions
Which I'm afraid, my friend, are wildly untrue

It's a sleight of hand, a white soul band
The heart attacks I'm convinced I have
Every morning upon waking
To you I'm a symbol or a monument
Your rite of passage to fufillment
But I'm not yours for the taking

But you are what you love
And not what loves you back
So I guess that's why you keep calling me back

I'm fraudulent, a thief at best
A coward who paints a bullshit canvas
Things that will never happen to me
But at arms length, it's Tim who said
I'm good at it, I've mastered it
Avoiding, avoiding everything

But you are what you love,
And not what loves you back
And I'm in love with illusions
So saw me in half
I'm in love with tricks
So pull another rabbit out of your hat.

5 comments:

fathorse said...

I am what I love.

I am Terry's Orange saved from my Christmas stocking for just such a moment.

I am blogging and writing and words like 'asshattery' and the wonderful people who write clever, lovely things that make me smile and feel happy with myself again!

What are you gordiegordie?

:)

Gordie said...

Well, I suppose...

I'm a girl. With a big arse. And a bigger record collection. And a penis. But it's a girl's penis. Well, girl-friendly, any way. And a moustache. But it's a girl's moustache.

I am true love, with respect for all human beings, even if they haven't washed or shaved for a few days (but I might be a bit ticked off if they hadn't read something and thought about it...)

I am a pair of eyes that you can look in, and see the very best of yourself. I am a voice full of wisdom and laughter that makes a man hard in one place and soft everywhere else, that makes a woman as wet and welcoming as the outside and inside of my house, this snowy week of winter. I am three nouns that can be turned into verbs; warm, wet, and slow.

I am a word in few people's vocabularies, that comes alive on the tongues that speak it.

I am the grit in your little oyster, that makes you want to make pearls.

fathorse said...

Aaaah! I wish I was those things. But sadly I am shallow and simple instead :)

I am trying to draw a mind picture of the woman/man/penis/moustachioed being, and failing but enjoying the task nonetheless.....

Gordie said...

"The names have been changed to protect the the innocent". I read your last remark just as Beat Dis by Bomb The Bass started. "Thunderbirds are Go."

Like I said, record collections.

fathorse said...

Ha! I had an excellent thunderbirds-related dream last night! Clearly you were beaming me cosmic waves of gerry anderson goodness...