kindasean

Loneliness comes with the territory--I am believing it more and more each day.

Walking around the neighborhood--feeling above myself looking down into my hair and not feeling the way my feet hit the pavement amidst piles of old shaggy porn books and cigarette butts and the music is there, somewhere, and I'm racing past the mailbox--bold and full of a sadness that makes the clouds turn a darker shade of shit.

There are so many words, so many years and I will be screaming them all by the side of the grave, just in time to watch the leaves change and the last person walk stiffly away down to the bottom of the hill.