There Is No If, Just And

Check in. I have been listening to The Cure, Bright Eyes, and Elliott Smith relentlessly for the past few days. What? What the hell am I doing? How have I continued to function as a normal human being when all I'm doing is listening to self deprecating singers who want to kill themselves (or have...)? No, no. No more of this. Hearing Robert Smith sing
""I said 'I love you'" I said...you didn't say a word / Just held your hands to your shining eyes / And I watched as the tears ran through your fingers / Held your hands to your shining eyes and cried" really drove it home for me. And although some of it is beautiful and some of it is appropriate when it's grey and raining, I don't think it should be all and always. Good thing I caught myself before I started writing poetry like this:

There is a door that opens to the cave
where my heart lives
why won't you open it
why won't you touch the handle
I used to be a fire
but then I gave you my flame
and now my heart is sitting in darkness
and it's cold
and I'm just a shadow
looking for a body
I could give you everything
but you don't even see me
I am invisible
I am nothing
I am a shadow
in the shadow of you.

I wanted to throw some unnecessary big words in there, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. Now I'm going to go to dinner and think about all the angst-ridden 15 year old girls out there who think Connor Oberst really "gets" them and writes poetry that doesn't even make sense.