And Then There Was One

i miss my old friend. the one i used to kick cans with to kill the time we hated. and not much arose from the situation. maybe cause we never jumped the gun with the legs we didn't have. the only two people i ever met that didn't have a clear escape. you and i buckled as they planned the getaway.

then the water level rose and when i tried to look for you it was pointless. you were so far under. so deep into it. the water swept you out to sea right as the day changed and ground crumbled beneath me.

i went back months later and saw this scene that horrified the lies about life right out of me. i saw you, head above water. my visit turned into a stay and after some careful consideration i decided misery loves life and it forges to fashion the path you take in the end.

\ all the things foregone are still aching on my mind.

Salt In The Wound

my body told me turn around but the momentum was way too much. how could i come to a screeching halt and do an about face when i've been running so hard in one direction for so long. the laws of nature don't allow it. and there i was trying to think of ways to go against nature, to beat her bloody hard and make her look a fool. haha. i had myself going.

i think i have ADD because next thing i know i'm thinking to myself where the fuck to they come up with these important ages. like you can't watch racy movies until you're 13, can't smoke until your 19, no drinking until you're 21, driving at what...17 these days, cheaper coffee and whatnot at 65. the list goes on. offensive video games at 17, renting a car at 21 also - weird how those two are paired. enlist in the armed forces at 18, tattoos at what...18? they won't diagnose you with crazy insane-people diseases until you're like 20. heck with parental consent you can be emancipated before 18 and do a whole bunch of what i just listed earlier. it's all cool if your parents are on board for the ride. hell, at least you'll have them to blame.

after a moment removed from the moment at hand i find myself tearing off scabs just to wish on them. to wish for the things i lost back. the things that walked away. the things i pushed away, and the things i threw away. for some of them to be like a boomerang.

and i know the impossible can't become possible just by wishing, but there's too many hours in a day not to at some point find myself believing in miracles and in time travel and in what ifs.

i'm mindfucked.

also, i'm thinking of inventing a real travel size salt, the size of a credit card, because how often do you find yourself wanting salt, but not badly enough to get up and get it?

TOO OFTEN.

Birth Of Wrath

i just recalled what broke the final straw, and started the free fall. it was you talking nonsense to the sky, about how better things were gonna come your way. ramblings that got me thinking now might be the time so i abruptly interrupted and told you that was me. but you weren't convinced so i was unsuccessful. and deep down i knew you'd deny it, and deeper down i knew i wasn't prepared to hear it.

i left that conversation with the weight of the world lifted off my shoulders. but it was replaced with the weight of a heavy heart. one that recovered surface but not internal. one that threw the towel in, and tried to walk away without any hurt feelings left, or swept under the rug. one that told itself everything would be okay on an hourly basis, one that retired to the bathroom to weep and bellow. and it worked overtime to mask the plague it caught from you.

couple of days later i read the heart it's last rights.
things were touch and go, but it made it through.
and the religious people close to me considered it a miracle.
and to their faces i laughed and told them they had to be kidding me, but behind their backs i agreed and cried from relief.