I.
What am I left with, and what have I given up for what I have?
Dependability is a pretty word,
but so is freedom.
II.
I see everything coming but only after it's already happened.
III.
Disenchantment sounds nice when it's rolling off your tongue, but cold when it's ringing in your ears.
IV.
Long winter. My toes are cold and I get dizzy when I stand up.
Not even the most heartbreakingly beautiful music I know can make it better, because a song is a thing from someone's head, and life is what you get when everything from everyone's head comes out,
or stays in and gets jumbled, and lost, and lonely,
Three words that describe my state of mind in the perilous aftermath.
V.
I want hugs and I want people to snuggle with me on the carpet
wearing Christine's pyjamas, the ones with the feet attached.
Preferably everyone I know in the one pair of pyjamas at one time.
Please.
VI.
Audrey lay there in the judging light of the harsh tungsten lamp.
It lit her skin and hair gold as it bound her there in her shame.
Her back was to the lamp, and his back to her where he stood by the bed.
Her eyes fixed on him and his
fixed to the darkness of the street out the window.
VI.
The wind from the lake brings to me everything,
and then takes everything away too soon.
I want it all to stay the same but I want it better.
I want to stop being naive.
Author notes
Work in progress
Adding your comment: