billybillybilly

a conversation i have with myself everyday around noon:

"see this sugar, they don't get it.

"blowing through pages and pages like nothing. can't stop writing and neither can you, can you? 'i hate the one thing i need, i just don't trust you now baby...'

"but it's been too long now hasn't it? they don't talk and it's like the walls cave to it. it's like the whole fucking floor is about to crumble and the collapse will prove a waterfall beneath us. it's okay dear, these things happen. buy the ticket take the ride.

"deal with it.

"rock an roll.

"tell yourself it's not their love. they're not responsible in the least. it's actions overtaking words spilling waves over the sides. we have nothing to lean on that's not rocking rocking rocking, poor little flotsam drowning in salt water.

"lots of things are made of salt and moisture. even things that aren't worth it.

"and that's why you shouldn't shed a tear. you must NOT waist another second waiting there for phones to ring or bells at your door but you're the only one who understands the depths that you've been dropped in.

"and that's because you're me.

"waiting around noon for something.

"looking at your reflection like anything can happen."