Friday, June 03, 2005

Gun Safety

"Good bye. I love you."
"I love you, too."

The click of the receiver is a sure fire trigger for the tears to begin. They roll down my face with no care or concern for their inappropriate presence in my work place. They refuse to listen to my reasonings. They evacuate my eyes, making their long awaited escape from my mind. I sit in the dark, blinking them away, trying to pull myself together to re-enter the room, dressed in a pink shirt and a smile, my favorite disguise.

I regret what I've said. I watch my words float from my mouth, hurtful and angry, a dark cloud, they dissapear into the phone evaporating into your ears. I wanted to gulp them back down. Swallow them into the pit my stomach, which has ached ever since the day you left. But I'm too proud to stop them. My instinct to lash out rather than admit my wound is, as always, my greatest downfall.

I want to kiss my I'm Sorries into your mouth. To reassure you of my love. To be reassured of yours.

I'm sorry I react the way I do. I say what I think. I don't hold back. I shoot to kill. The trouble with me is I'm trigger happy.

Next time I'll keep the safety on.

I promise.
posted by Kellie @ 1:04 PM |

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