And The Truth Is

By RichieMillennium

I was interested in seeing if I could reRECord some really great text RECords into another text RECord - not something I often think of doing. I bookend-ed this with pieces of "I See Legs", which is something I wrote during my first week as a hitRECorder back in July.

----------

And the truth is
On any other night
She would have been a blur
Blowing past my car window.
But there I was
Waiting to cross the busiest street in town
When without a sound,
Without so much as a shadow
She glided up to the corner
And then ebbed gently back
Toward the lamp post
Where yellow light
Sprayed down the back
Of her black dress.

And the truth is
The walking wasn't so bad.
The light flurries could be
(Romantically)
Called the cold kiss of January -
She had sloppy lips though
And got specks of spit
On my cheeks
And in my eyes.

And the truth is
The first words I said
Didn't come from my mouth.
The first thought I thought
Didn't start in my head.
I was unwillingly bound to someone else.
I didn't know what was going to happen to me.
But I wanted to break free
So I cut the ropes.

And the truth is
I wasn't like you
A bruised fruit
Fallen off a tree
Shining on the ground
For everyone to see.

And the truth is
You looked like you were made of chalk
You looked like you had never been living,
Had never blinked, had never made a joke.
Reality fell away
I found myself lying face-up
Under the bed
Staring at the brown weave
Like it was a magic-eye puzzle.
I had left my feet in the hallway.
I had swallowed my tongue.
The bones in my body had disintegrated.

And the truth is,
I will never hear your voice again.
So please, I asked, play this one last.
Soft, so we can hear the men cry.
You became so small.
A stamp or a xerox copy.
You nor I will ever know when to heal.

And the truth is
I fingered smiley faces
Onto dew-covered car windows
While walking to the train from your house.
In the morning,
While owners drove to work,
Light would catch their windshields
Revealing the filthy ghosts
Of my self-expression.

And the truth is
Since I boarded this bus
I've been trying to escape you,
But you are a bird.
You are a bird that travels with me.
You are hidden in the heart of every tree.
I blink away the memory.
I don't know where I am,
But it seems far enough away
And I need some fresh air.
This ache is stretched across the length of me.

And the truth is
My feet feel detached from the rest of me
As I kick at the place where the cuff of my pants should be.
My knees are locked in place
And my legs are bound by the same hypnotic spell
That flicked my senses into a drifting dream.
The traffic relents
And she leaks away from the corner
And across the intersection.
She never even noticed
The witless shell of a man
Left floating in her wake.

Document
And The Truth Is

Created: Feb 01, 2010

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