Crooked smile.

It’s unfortunate. It’s permeating, and frail. Guess you are spun into your own momentum now. It’s not easy to breathe, there and here. I’m guessing. Paste on a smile, throw cause over your shoulder, unravel your day to day which I hope fills you the way it should. It should. It fills every minute of tangible reason, to peel back every fingerprint. I still feel the good and the bad, but I like to let the comfort that was there wash over. At least it’s a feeling, to feel something. When it’s cold out, maybe you will feel enough to fall.

 

always you.

somewhere, I guess ill always wonder.

Kilig

Note 2635
It was always the storms within you. Even when it was quiet. Cold water, hot water, shaken, stirred, wish I could have done more or fixed more or really came along a year later.

Note 2552
Maybe it’s just May, the stupid hot weather, the ringing whirl of a window unit. Why does that just permeate a scenario every time. Or hot blowing air across your face. Always stupid hot. Probably why I hate the heat.

Note 2579
Leaving backing up hearing gravel under the tires, that sound then layered comfort, falsely maybe however we translate it. It bothers me to walk away not feeling like anything was real. Spell your own story, the script under the covers was so much different, or always will be to me. But we again, write our own endings with the least amount of attrition. I breathe better on some days, but some days not.

Note 2580
I miss a lot. A lot of the time.

 

 

When I sleep I know no fear, no trouble, no bliss.

“Must I go on living here then, among the objects we both had touched, in the air she had breathed? In the name of what? In the hope of her return? I hoped for nothing. And yet I lived in expectation. Since she had gone, that was all that remained. I did not know what achievements, what mockery, even what tortures still awaited me. I knew nothing, and I persisted in the faith that the time of cruel miracles was not past.”
― Stanisław Lem, Solaris 1961

Failing now.

saw all the boxes

left at my door

hearing your footsteps

like I’m not at home

where did my winter go

it left me alone

where did my winter go

she got up and run

i can’t stop watching

watching my door

i cant stop thinking

think i heard knocking

well i’m wrong

key on the kitchen sink

you cried in our room

i walked out that door that day

i was shielded from you

i can’t stop thinking

should i go or i run

if i had come back that day

my winter’d have sun

Go figure.