February 2012
3 tags
the last stair
its like the shock,
of falling down the stairs.
you’re lying at the bottom,
confused,
dazed,
hurting,
tears stinging involuntarily,
thinking,
“how did i get here?
just a moment ago i was fine.
up there,
where everything was good.”
but now you’re broken and awkward and floundering
on the last step,
of the last flight.
with your skin torn,
with your jeans...
“I didn’t want to kiss you goodbye—that was the trouble—I wanted to kiss you...”
– Ernest Hemingway
“The first language humans had was gestures. There was nothing primitive about...”
– Nicole Krauss, The History of Love
Anonymous asked: you're back :) i absolutely love your blog x
3 tags
On the horizon.
There is a tv flickering through the blinds of the next door neighbors,
in and out of focus,
bursting into blue light.
My mind, the same,
bursts of light and dark and blurry.
The numbers on the clock are passing by,
but they can’t tell me what they mean.
What does any of it mean?
Is one day more precious than the next?
Are they not all the same?
One sunrise,
one sunset,
so many...
