4.12.2015
Look both ways when crossing.
I swore I would post something earlier this week.
Here we go again.
-My uncle asked me today if I'm money hungry. I looked at him and said, "I guess I am."
He said to be careful.
You know, it's funny what time can do.
What it can do to people and minds. And how I've managed to manipulate and warp time into my hands.
Right between each finger, and under my fingernails.
Playing wild cards and dealing them out; each drunk and written with conspiracy.
I rub out the practicality
and sting of it all
Cradling the familiar indents impressed into me. Creating painful spaces between you and me; and my fingers and fingernails. Licking my chapped and cracked bones. Cracked lips.
Cracked me.
Bleaching my blonde hair even blonder with the chemicals pressed into my roots.
Pressed into me.
Tired secrets and tired scenes; smeared on the outer most extent of my skin. Pealing with pride and prudent pleasure. The kind of pleasure that promises you interest. The kind that possesses your darkest emotion. All wrapped in box and bow.
Timid and unsure I crawl home with my heavy elbows and knobby knees; into my hardly involved bed. I count back and think; "I've forgot to measure the distance; yet I know how far I've gone. How far we've separated".
How much I've changed.
My skin to scales. My personality to pay checks.
Gripping for mercy
And time.
My knuckles and static hair infatuated with the delivery of selected love. Collecting my sweat and anxiety. Labeling them, organizing them into files.
Stored away for the spring.
Only increasing their numbers. The heat and pressure of this all; weighing my shoulders.
Weighing my eyelids.
While I continually count faces and tap my knees out of habit.
I'm different and time is unchanging. I'm changing and wishing for Lord knows what. It's funny what I blame on time; and how it's power hungry and I'm power drained.
We are a beautiful team.
I have a beautiful system
Teach me to write and I'll give you anything.
-s
This wasn't about shoes. Sorry. I really tried to get it out of me, but it just wouldn't come.
Lullaby ll
I'd let all my dreams
Dry up
For you to be happy
If that's enough
For you
To be happy
For now...
And now that all of my dreams
Have dried up,
You're running through daisies
And that's enough
For me
To be happy
To be happy
To be happy
For now...
-BR
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