I keep my hands to myself mostly, touch is so drastic
I’ve never liked being surprised
More than anything I wish I could have the plane tickets, to show up in my misery and my magnificence
would you be there at the door? I can picture you with your hands clasped as you calmly scan the faces of passengers leaving the tunnel or the escalator
I wonder which of us would be faster to find the other,
I can’t imagine you standing in the open, maybe off in a corner, I know you don’t like the press of strange bodies close to you
I wish I could reach out and touch your hands, across my imagination and the time we’ve spent apart, how often are you in my awareness?
Maybe it would be a gloomy day and you’d be wearing a hoodie with your hair in your face,
I remember the happy reunion hugs as being my favorite
Every day here feels like over use of adverbs on a job application,
I’m really tired of slowly dying, quickly declining and strangely determined
My guts want verbs and nouns, go there, do that, take those, give this, make more, show out, stand up, all of my direction is pointless without movement
If I repeat myself but I say new words can I verbalise my meaning through different expression?
I was driving one day in Colorado and being angry at my life, and I saw an old married couple in a park holding hands and it made me feel like an absolute fucking idiot,
I would need to be stupid to give up the only chance I have at being there someday, holding my wife’s hand in a park, clearly they were there for my benefit and not just a random encounter,
It’s me I’m talking about, the one real person in existence, viewing all of my imagined creations playing out my subconscious messages to myself
I can see you see me for the first time and you look like you saw your long lost best friend, how am I going to live my life with that moment stuck in my eyes?
I’m sick of feeling
like I missed a train and I don’t want to wait for the next one
Would you be there waiting for me?
I wonder if you’d look away or if you’d smile right into my smile, both or neither I can only guess
I’m a fighter trying to quit the ring but I can’t find the ropes and I haven’t heard the bell, just yet
I’m tired but I’m burning, I’ve lost a lot but I’m still learning. A million times and a million more I’ll live our moments in silence, if it happens in my mind it still happened, right?