on the things of which we spoke

both of us expressed memories of a sudden, detrimental realization which took place in early childhood. within moments on those horrid, fucked up days, we both independently realized that we would be forced to witness things we were even too afraid to imagine at that age.  we realized we were required to witness the demise of those we loved the most lest we caused our own demise, thus causing them infinite pain.

then we spoke about holding hands as we jumped off of the golden gate. because i love lyrics, i joked,

“i just want to jump into the general pacific.”

but it wasn’t funny in actuality. i never wanted to leave her alone. she sobbed because she could not be here without this. she sobbed because she could not be here without us.

“i’d love for you to come with me,” i suddenly heard my voice proclaim. sometimes my voice surprises me.

i spoke toxic words then. perhaps i was spellbound, but something in those words may have attempted to kill us both. i don’t remember the look on her face, but i think that i’m sorry. i do think she was pleased to have been invited.

this is where we would normally pause and think “critically,” like respected self-important critics, slapping ourselves around verbally until we either changed our minds entirely or just held hands and let go.

she asked me, then, “how is it that world records keep being beat?”

and we knew that there was an elsewhere.  and we knew that we belonged there.

“what dreams may come?”

i'd be thrilled to hear your true, uncensored thoughts. i'd also love to read your writing.