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Pandora Scooter: Blog

Superlatives

Posted on August 16, 2010 with 0 comments
My morning noises bounce back at me from across the room
My footsteps leave audible traces as I pace room to room
My keyboard taps are the loudest sounds in my room

And here comes the kicker line that tells you what the poem is really about:

And in your life my love for you doesn't have any room.

You say you want me
But you say you want me totally this way
And you say you want me totally that way
So I make this and that totally my way
And then you tell me you totally don't want me either way

You say you need me
You say I mean absolutely everything to you
You say I should spend my life with you
You say you want me to unconditionally accept you
So I love and accept the you of you
And then you tell me that I entirely don't know you

You say you love me
You say you accept me completely
You say you care for me completely
You say you are dedicated to me completely
So, I trust you completely
And you drop me on my ass...completely

Do you know you speak in superlatives now?
You didn't used to,
But somewhere along the line "like" and "ok" became unacceptable and mundane
And they were traded in for "adore absolutely" and "accept unconditionally"
As if the "ly's" at the ends of these words
Would blind us to the ways we so don't match
Would help us ignore that we hadn't really made the best catch
Would help me forget that you don't have a snatch...

And I think for a while speaking in "ly's" oiled the gears
Maybe gained us a couple more years
But in the end, my - can I even call you my - friend?
The "ly's" just caused more tears.

And I don't "ly" you anymore.
I don't "ly" you at all.
I'm not sure if I even "ly" anyTHING anymore.
You've kinda made "ly" meaningless.

When I was a kid I remember my dad having some really shitty advice for me about life
But the one thing he taught me that has actually turned out to be true
Is this:

don't.

trust.

superlatives.

because they're likely to leave you sitting outside some darkened theatre
a block away from some darkened grocery store
a mile away from your darkened home
with nothing to hold on to
and nothing to remember
except for softness in your eye
before you started to L-Y.

 

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