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jacques_tortue

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whispering goodbye
my heart bleeds from the wound where you were ripped away [05 Jul 2006|07:12pm]
[ mood | dead ]

claus, my claus. as always he was the right one. my pants remained wrinkled in a world that was ever pressing. pressing who? who but i, the small one, the one who must hide in this shell like a prison. not your prison.
oh claus, it is i, your jacques that speaks to you now. it has been a long and lonely time that i have spent out of the loft, and you must know now that i have suffered so long. not i it is who will run from blame, for only i can know the hurt i could have kept from you. i have not spoken with annelise for months now. i cannot meet that gaze. that gaze so indifferent when i speak of you. and how? how can she hear of you and not feel as if her heart will shatter, full for knowing the one who is claus.
i have a new place, one fitting my fickle and wavering character, a basement of cold and hard, one where my every shiver feels deserved. oh claus, set me free. forgive me. find me in my darkened prison, set my soul like a bird to the open sky.

i need to be forgiven by you. it has been too long since we spoke.

1 death -  whispering goodbye
[20 Mar 2006|11:08am]
This can never be a letter to you. I leave it an open letter. One for all to destroy in the pain of what must follow hereafter.

This morning, I woke to the soft breath of Annelise on my shoulder. Nothing was as it should be. Annelise, the fragile, the beautiful. The one who should be every day with the one who loves her most, the essence of that which keeps me going onwards. My muse, my friend, my Claus. Why does she stay? Why do I find her here? She speaks more often through me, and of him. I feel trapped by the game of two lovers who have never touched.
For a few breif moments, it felt like happiness this day. But the world must crumble, for this happiness is never mine. They both need each other. They both need me. I need freedom. This house is built upon a world of lies and betrayal, and I am not the one to keep on playing in this den for inequity. Nothing happened. Neither will it. But now I feel like I am the wrong. It should have been he waking to her soft breaths, he having the opportunity to make it all unfold.

She is too strange.

I am leaving the house. I am sorry. I will be back when the world feels clearer. Please understand me Claus. It is not me who makes the world.

J.

1 death -  whispering goodbye
[19 Mar 2006|06:51pm]
Claus. Are you there, Claus? It is the impersonal age of internet winter. I talk into the void which is not talking back, not listening. Never when I am in the process of communication. You and I are left forever in the grip of urst . She hates me now. Nothing means exactly nothing to me.


I apologise my dear. This helps.

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