Movies are such liars, and Hollywood builds suicides. I'm ready for my Oscar, so roll out the carpet. Color is insignificant; I'll paint it with the claustrophobia in my wrists.

If only you could realize the scene won't rewind. Action's over, so go back to sleep. You won't remember anything in the morning but your lines. You were always prettier with the lights down low.

These plans, the order was never meant to go through. We'll fail all the way home. Let the scene end with your last words (I'll never forget) and my tears hitting your cheek. I love holding you for the last time. I must, cuz I've done it over and again. No wonder I'm claustrophobic.

You're done rehearsing, so let's get it over with. It's time for the last shot. Will you let your tears hit my casket? It's in the shape of your heart. That's just a film flaw though; it doesn't exist in our Polaroid world.

It's funny how you always remember your lines until the scene is played back.



Copyright © andthefoolshallburn ... [ 2004-12-27 18:37:06]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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