there's thirty nine minutes left so the words are swift and sweaty, we're running and can't tell time on purpose. tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow, yeah tomorrow, was my lullaby;  never was my reality. 

i wish you'd pick me up, i wish tonight you said, kerry i know you know art, you won't have to say you're an artist because I'll say you're an artist. the woman at the bar said paintings weren't functional art, explaining how function had to do with food and glasses and the things we need to survive and everyday workings & all i could think about were the bed-headed men and women in their cabins or their city lofts, typewriters or canvases & three day old cups of coffee stained crumpled pieces of paper on floors and the fresh ones with prayers not to god, but to people, their dreams like keyboards clicking. i told her real art is eaten just like food and drunk just like water but she wasn't from my world and somehow no one is so sip your drink and tell your stories but when the colors crash i hope you're not one of them, when the soil sings i know you won't be part of any of it.

i am writing this by candlelight not because it's poetic but because this is where life has brought me, band-aids and bruises and loves i could never, ever explain. when my heart beats it sings and no matter what you or i say this could never be untrue, not after one beer or two, not after your chair makes that awkward sound, not after your hands have been on my hips, not after i'm alone in my bed. that's the thing, that's the thing, i wanted to say. you have no idea what you're talking about, people rarely do . it's the ones that stay quiet that know, i think. it's the wax that stays thick, the smell like something you swallow that sticks to your skin, one day love will be just like this, i tell the children in my bones, someday.
i was born here, but i can't find home. 
you see, he didn't mind chewing the pills because they tasted like what was coming and what was coming was nothing at all, all the nothings chiming, all the lovers coinciding. i pushed you down because you belonged there and the world can't move if we're standing still so tell me i'm beautiful cause god knows i won't believe you unless you drill it into my skin. unless you can get me so clean i won't be twelve years old scrubbing my knees in the shower like there's dirt there unseen.

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