In The End
closedeyes
Oct 11, 2008
Everyone writes about morbid things. But whatever happened to that happy, little girl on the beach, in a long, frilly dress, giggling when the waves hit her pink toes?
She's become the stoner in the back of fifth period, writing poems about death, and cries her eyes out every night, while her mom screws around, drunk. Whatever happened to the boy who was playing catch with his father in the park that sunny day? The boy who aspired with all his heart to become a star football player?
He's become the star football player, alright - loaded on steroids. His father? Not even there. Gone. What happened to happy, youthful couple, sharing a wonderful time over dinner?
They're at home. She's in the bedroom crying, with bruises on her arms and legs. He's in the living room, drinking straight out of the Jack Daniels bottle.
Everyone writes about morbid things because in the end, nothing really is that perky and delightful. In the end, we all give up, and take the easy route out. But we'll never forget the little girl, the little boy with his father, or the happy couple. Because they're the things we look forward to when we lie to ourselves about a shining, perfect future.
She's become the stoner in the back of fifth period, writing poems about death, and cries her eyes out every night, while her mom screws around, drunk. Whatever happened to the boy who was playing catch with his father in the park that sunny day? The boy who aspired with all his heart to become a star football player?
He's become the star football player, alright - loaded on steroids. His father? Not even there. Gone. What happened to happy, youthful couple, sharing a wonderful time over dinner?
They're at home. She's in the bedroom crying, with bruises on her arms and legs. He's in the living room, drinking straight out of the Jack Daniels bottle.
Everyone writes about morbid things because in the end, nothing really is that perky and delightful. In the end, we all give up, and take the easy route out. But we'll never forget the little girl, the little boy with his father, or the happy couple. Because they're the things we look forward to when we lie to ourselves about a shining, perfect future.
