Sunday, December 10, 2006

Center of Gravity (or) How to feel more alive than the corpses.

Easy, don’t care about anything too much or too little.

Harder said than done. Like a dropped stone in a clear pond. Watch it sink sunk to the bottom. I feel like I’m disappointing right now. You, best friend, daddy, anarchist, good friend, ex-lover, hippy, and on the list goes until I just push everyone out and go walk amongst the clouds in a big skyscraper. In instances like this I understand on again off again’s sadness at being the proverbial apple of his papa’s eyes. It’s hard to be pulled it’s a rock to have people depend on you or your reactions your emotions when you don’t even know how to catch your own not even with a fly net and fat bait.

You'll never know all the awful things I'm thinking (all giggled out) post pass away
your languid thoughts
mine are quick firing
sure fire miss, till I’m all skin and bones.
won't change the color of my lungs or the distance between your bed and mine.
Fine fine fine
I’m not, and you won’t ever understand the bond between your pants and mine.
Crazy you said once, for loving you once.
Twice till it felt like nothing at all.
Third time it was all straight fingers and late nights
Not true, will you feel better?
Or nothing at all.
That boy with the bright eyes and mountainous six pack rushed at me. Like we were old friends. Talk of knitting, talk of crochet flasks, and the contents. Hippy looked on disapprovingly and I was fraught with over stimulation. Finally the truth. He said I was there I was there, you reading was amazing intense raw. Raw? I cocked my frostbitten ears to the left. Raw Raw you, your writing it made people uncomfortable. In the good way. I really enjoyed that uncomfortable feeling.

My wisdom teeth are coming through and they hurt. A hurt I’m not accustomed too.

My bed is covered in you. The spot where you laid wafts stale cigarettes. Surprise comfort. I find your hair in my hair, and wonder when I’ll get to do that again. Glad that so many things are tied to this terrible mark on my neck, because I would run the opposite direction if it was an open highway. Scared terrified of anything resembling continuity. Don’t box me in, but keep me close. Because you help to make the most out of winter.

I don’t want to not yell out and be young and free I don’t want to disappoint me and that disappoints you confused and tired but still smiling I'll try not to remember you and me.


neigbortron says man, you're so damn happy when you talk about him. like wiseone and ultimate frisbee, even if he lost or got right hit in the head with his own boomerang shot he'd still be goof faced grinning. yeah I said (dreamily) even if I get right hit in the head with my own boomerang shot I'd still be goof faced grinning, it's funny like that.

If I survive till Wednesday. I'm sure none of this will matter.

Not sure if people actually change.

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