my skin is red and turns white to the touch. the past couple of days, busy at work.
i've been forgetting about all of my things to tidy and keep track of and have been laying
in the sun. too long belly up. stretch marks from losing weight and stretch marks from baby
ripping across loose skin. will i ever heal? was i ever something to compare to even middle
aged? i swear its been all down hill. i've made a couple of promises, everyone tells me everything.
i could write a book of secrets and mean it. but its like a hen house there, you tell one, you've
told them all!
my ears have been bothering me for a few months. just a little ache here and there. no
loss of hearing or buzzing or high pitched ringing. just enough dullness to let me know its
i went for a walk high above along the mississippi river the other day, along with zoli.
she tolerated three miles as long as there were cheerios at hand. the slightly sweetened
ones shaped like hearts. she likes them, so do i and we shared.
i drove by a lake the other day to see at least fifteen swans huddled together. i wanted
to turn around and take a picture, there's a million times i've wanted to do so.
another moment gone, shades of white and feathers, trees and a fence. shallow water that looked murky. it probably wouldn't have been so beautiful after all.
i miss this time of morning
no one is awake, just the crickets
its times like these when any guilt
have had does eat its way through the
veins and ventricles in my heart and
for a second it slows everything down and i'm light headed
i wake up crying.
you've left me with quite a few hollow places full of hauntings. the turbine it takes to keep me going is a sacrifice.
i am never fully pleased nor satisfied. my whole life i've gone through these fits of depression, a hole in my bubble.
my air mixing with everyone elses, remembering the pace of your breathing (i dwell this deeply and close to my heart).
there is never a temptation i've spared, shortcomings are genetic i am proof and i'm generally always panicked. today,
pulling up the shades would change nothing except the sight from off white to grey. all the old houses settled beyond
their foundations causing cracks to the shingles. i live in one and i swear i feel the sway in my sleep. the soft touches
of ghosts we've built on and over and on and over again. its so much easier to bury the physical. i've no rest here.