?

Log in

No account? Create an account
trust me
sometimes words aren't enough. this is one of those times. 
18th-Mar-2005 05:17 am
Reborn - Yamamoto CHIBITA

+

You don’t know what I’m saying, he snaps. You can’t possibly understand.

I don’t pretend to, you say. But you don’t need to know why something happens to want to do something about it.


+



So you ask John, and he says, We all have our demons. He pauses, long enough to take a drag on that ever-present cigarette. Sometimes they get out, he continues, while you wait and resent the smoke.

That’s when you find your friends. And sometimes you find them in the most surprising places.


He looks skywards, and you think he’s about to give the heavens the one-finger salute, but he surprises you, just as he always does.

And sometimes someone’s listening, he says.

That grin again.

And sometimes it’s not who you think it is.

+




You’d ask the question, but sometimes the one you want to put it to is beyond words.

But he’d tell you this one thing.

It doesn’t always work out that way. But sometimes, you don’t see that without seeing a bit of heaven, too.

And sometimes, it isn’t enough.

+



You’d ask the kid, but you’d be keeping your eyes on the meter, because we all run out of time, and Heaven knows we’re paying for every second we’ve got. So before you step out of that door you turn to him and put it to him.

The look on his face tells him he’d rather tell you to fuck off right away, but he holds that tongue of his and thinks about what you’ve said.

And then he tells you something that can’t be printed without the words he’s said sending the paper they’re written on up in flames, and you never knew something could be said with quite so many imprecations, but hey, you take what you can get, especially if you think it’s all you’re ever going to, when it comes to him.



+



Libraries make you sneeze. Nothing’s different this time, but you try to hold instinct in when you’re standing on thick-napped carpet, wondering how a boy can make you feel like a child.

You watch him as sunlight pours through the glass windows and falls over the both of you.

Behind those unusually thick-lensed glasses waits a mind sharper than anything you’ve ever seen, so you know you’re not waiting in vain.

The world is quiet here, he says, and he runs a finger reverently down the spine of the book he’s holding.

+




Peter is quiet for a long time.

Then this is what he says to you:

It’s cold. And the rain won’t stop falling. You come in and see him there, silhouetted against the New York skyline, face upturned to the rain.

And you know there is nothing you can say that would make him believe you. Nothing you can tell him which he hasn’t heard before. Nothing which would change anything. Nothing which would make him do anything differently. Nothing which would change the past. Nothing which can move the future. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

You know this and he knows this as well as you do.

But you go to him. You go down on your knees before the wide window and put your arms around him as if it would change something, anything. He’s like steel under your touch, and his mind is a labyrinth he’ll never find his way out of, because he’s caught up in the ghosts of his past, but you touch him, nevertheless, as if you could make the moment real.

When his arms come up around you, you know it isn’t enough. He knows it, too.

But sometimes that’s all we can do.

That’s all we can do.

+




/For What Reason/ is the song that keeps playing in my head, but that’s not really the question I want to ask you.

I say the words that lovers whisper in the dark, that men have said to women, that men have said to men, that women have said to women, that I now say to you. Except they don’t really mean what it looks like they mean. They mean everything in between the lines that I write because I can’t find the words to say what I want to. They mean everything I can’t put into words, everything I can’t say, because words – they can be a chain just like everything else, can’t they? You know best of all.


I’m always listening. Even when it looks like I can’t hear.

+
Comments 
18th-Mar-2005 06:02 am (UTC)
Ah God. You've taken my breath away and made me want to scream to the heavens, bury my face in a pillow, shoot my way out of a sunset I cannot see, and dive headlong out of a window, trust that I can fly. Thank you. Just....thank you.
18th-Mar-2005 06:18 am (UTC)
omg you were just on and then you signed off and omgomgogmsofjsldfjasligj.

Your words are love.
18th-Mar-2005 07:56 am (UTC)
^_^
18th-Mar-2005 12:15 pm (UTC)
OMG That's so pretty *_* Even though I didn't quite realize the characters you were talking about (all from different fandoms? I recognize the John + cigarettes one, but not Peter...then again, probably just forgot the name)

And yay for second person! I've been waiting a long time to read something written well in that POV. It makes the little vignettes flow together very beautifully ^_^.
18th-Mar-2005 02:25 pm (UTC)
Did you write this? Because it's really lovely! :)

Am not into Constantine slash, but this is captivating. The language is beautiful. Thanks for sharing! :D
18th-Mar-2005 04:31 pm (UTC)
lovely drabbles, sweetling....

BUT WHAT IS THIS I HEAR ABOUT SEVERE LACK OF SLEEP AND APPARENTLY WHAT LITTLE SLEEP YOU DID GET WAS ON A BENCH AT SCHOOL? IN THE MIDDLE OF LATE WINTER/EARLY SPRING IN LONDON??????!!!!!! >E

GO SLEEP. AND DON'T YOU DARE GO ONLINE UNTIL YOU GET AT LEAST TEN HOURS. MINIMUM.

nagging. a parental prerogative.
18th-Mar-2005 10:08 pm (UTC)
OMG Aefallen, get offline!
19th-Mar-2005 03:04 pm (UTC)
My dear student, I hate to say this to you, but...

GO OFFLINE AND GO GET SOME SLEEP. BEFORE I UNLEASH THE DRAUGHT OF LIVING DEATH[TM] ON YOU.
21st-Mar-2005 04:12 am (UTC)
Oh God, these were absolutely lovely. I've just gotten back from break and I'm about to crash where I stand, but I'll definitely be posting a more in-depth review very soon!
23rd-Mar-2005 03:43 am (UTC)
Oh I loved it all so much.


You’d ask the question, but sometimes the one you want to put it to is beyond words.

But he’d tell you this one thing.

It doesn’t always work out that way. But sometimes, you don’t see that without seeing a bit of heaven, too.

And sometimes, it isn’t enough.
For some reason it's making me want to cry a little. In a good way <3

This page was loaded Dec 12th 2018, 10:10 pm GMT.