There just never ever seems like the right time to catch up after you've blown through..
Maybe it's because of all the unsettling and dusty trap doors slamming, me getting back up from flat on my butt, remembering how and why and what, not when so I can pretend, but so I deliver the good news that old friends seem so ready to consume, condemn, confusingly slim...and then I get lost rambling on my way to fumbling for words to say, I mean write, how you feel about my feelinglessness when all I can do is sigh, one, two..
Ever notice how far away dreams feel the morning right after, that their lip-smackin' thrill goes cold, gone in a flash, red skin faded like your last happy pill ated, the soda cracker diet in the quiet, shoosh, it's OK, nobody is waiting for safety tape shaping..it's in and kind of quick, this no man's land fantasy strip..
The spiderweb effects of the dead and dying phone book debts, impossible missions never meant to be a condition of my condition, who needs schooling when living on wind, the happily ever after believing you're right when you're wrong, so wrong..
You can't go on, telling people what you want them to feel or you can and did, hardly a substitute kid, knowing what you paid for and when, prostitutes and old men selling sin, no wind, wares on you their wearing through, two-dollar whiskey breath kisses stuck to the glasses, you hold on and I'll own the cloud, no reason we can't get our every ridiculous wish, unless lost we're back to that, caution tape outlines and chalk white mustaches..your the bruised and butter-rum-glue, gotta go now to believe you'll leave your nightstick know-how..
There just never ever seems like the right time to catch up, still.
3 comments:
The blue and muddy life that we sometimes travel.
Those absurd people who say
we manifested it.
Each new tear is a surprise.
Never dreaming I had more
to share with my grief.
James
They are footsteps, these blue and black face slaps, kidney punches and liver failing doses, people coming in and out of school, the hard knock life is brutal, me always stuck in between here and there..I guess at least I know enough to know enough, broken is as broken comes undone is tough, but that ain't any news for someone who's gotten used. We share best with the dusty void, she hasn't anything to condemn but contempt itself, better get a bigger cup, one is never enough.
That means we could talk about anything and someone is going to care. That's what I think. The more we share the closer we get to the truth. Even if the truth ain't.
-remy
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