Another Day

November 26th, 2010

I have to sleep with a pillow crushed up against my chest now. Otherwise, my eyes stay open and the rooms bends and coruscates. Walking down the street, I think of you. For the first time in years, you make me feel like I’m finally done. I might love you. I’ve said it before, but I don’t know if I’ll say it again. Something about you sets me off inside, makes me feel whole, grins and laughter bouncing around my head. And the way you are with kids is pure magic. Oh, what is this? I just wonder if you feel it too.

November 17, 2010

I always think it’s a mistake, I always find the winning flaw. But the world keeps spinning. Or maybe I’m revolving around the world, and the world keeps orbiting the sun. I’m running around you, I’m running in circles again and again, trying to fight my back in. Yet now I don’t have to try. Why is it you’re giving me the time of day?

Old roads in November

The air around me was yellow and pale blue,
a single light dimly illuminating the room.
A waning sun sank over the trees,
casting old, gray light over the snow like a heavy sweater.
The edges of everything blurred and coruscated;
I moved slowly and carefully,
I was floating.
A train sped through my backyard, black and old-fashioned.
I looked for the red caboose like we always used to.
The old roads were drawn between the trees,
everything was illuminated, golden and cadet.
Strapped into a car seat, eyes searching the gravel and oaks for interesting things.
My hands were small and soft, tiny graphite smears.
I heard music that reminded me of long winter train rides,
of coming home in the fading light.
My eyes blurred again, and my heart seemed to start beating.
It was as if I had left my own limbs, my own mind,
and gone back in time.
Old memories had bled through, causing a shift in galactic knowledge.
I had timetraveled, I had been young and full.

My eyes were heavy but I was smiling.
I had not forgotten, afterall, what childhood was like.

November 11th, 2010
We walked along a frozen and crunchy trail, the stream rushing up through your shoes. You winked and I smiled sheepishly. We went no where and found ourselves back where we started. I don’t know what I want anymore.