No, see, I'd rather sit right here.
Last night when I fell asleep I could hear all of your voices and nothing you said was important, nothing you said was good. The license plate of the toyota "rav 4" in my peripheral reads "thx mom."
Every shady treed creamy brownstone could be a hard cough, the kind you hear in hospitals when you know something is very, very wrong. Every person walking out of the doors making sure their locked behind them sound just like the man in the E.R. screaming some womans name for hours.
Like when you thought it wasn't possible to get anymore lost but found out you were wrong.
It happened. It did, and I'm thinking that maybe, if one more person tells me everything will be okay I will explode in front of everyone, in front of the whole world the biggest wishes falling over , a trickling down, you can have them, you open up and it's like snowflakes on the tongue.
Coney Island firework explosions on the inside, right under your skin. New pen new life same song, the words twist and fly like blank pages everywhere in the air. The pieces landing, in your head through your ears from the tiny white buds you hear him say "if you love me, then that's your fault," and your whole heart gets hungry and eats itself up, no fork or knife, no, cannibal style. Because it's true, isn't it? It is, it always is.
I know it. Because of words like unstable and werewolf, because of people standing still and then the people walking by them. Yes, a new stoop, see, I think I'm done and then I remember one more thing.
Just one more thing -- where do I start? I had better decide soon.
Mortal fight or flight, you know? Tons of one more things. Piles, until you can't see anything else but everything ever.I'm standing still in the middle of a day lit sidewalk and I am just about to cry.