there are few things that i take for granted. like the salt that sticks to the bottom of my shoes on snowy days, and the threads that hang off of my underwear. like the things that are hiding under my couch cushions and the warmth of anything that is alive.
we fell in love in our dreams, and we stayed there. like his mistress i led him to bed, time after time, our bodies clashing through clothes, and i got lots of knots in my stomach which i should have taken as a sign, but my guts are always are always tying themselves up like carnival balloons. now he walks around like a ghost, and talks about things that make me sick, and believes in nothing at all. my shrink tells me some things just make you sad forever. he's not very good.
yesterday i woke up, and i thought i was dead, and i asked the dots in front of my eyes if you could still sleep after you died, and they responded by dancing around and changing colors so i still don't know the answer because in this world you only learn to speak with words. my body wants something from me, always, as though i don't treat it right, like i throw it around into unhealthy emotional situations, as though it just wants to stay in the same place forever, or else be cut in pieces, and spread around.
(i have to stop, even though i'm not ready, thats the trouble with making plans, and always knowing what time it is)