You take awayA monster, when so driven.
You take away
You take away
You take away
You take away
You take away
A sophisticate, when calmed.
Pick someone, anyone. It describes every last one of them. Every last one of us. I'm not immune.
A drop-D tuning of a life with distortion so loud I can't hear anything save for a tone-deaf roar in my ears. And then I see it. They aren't from his point of view, they're from mine, songs destined to attempt to prove once and for all that he knows how I feel.
I am the artist.
Words elsewhere, hands, affection designed to prove that he knows what I need, what I want and why I don't have to draw a distinction between the two any longer. I've reached a point in my life where I don't have to make excuses or abide the lines I have drawn. Freewheeling. That was always Jacob's definition of Bridget. Freewheeling. Somehow he and he alone could see potential past the high-strung, uptight, proper and destined for great things Bridget to Bridget without boundaries.
Only I think he was wrong.
I realized I could get away with so much more than anyone ever thought I was capable of and I tasted it and I liked it and so I ordered another round and now I'm drunk with a ridiculous sort of power that won't turn off.
No excuses and no punishment except the kinds that come from self and from the night-monsters who serve as the heroes by day and the villains by night and it is liberating and breath-taking and so horribly wrong.
I was gifted my final deadline this morning and now I have to figure out if it would just be easier to dive from a high peak or run like hell. Standing around to face this music will free me of the pressure of being the muse but the true monster among us will be revealed.
One will be redeemed and the other forfeited.
I just didn't get to choose which one I would be.