i know that this emptiness i feel without you is nothing in comparison to the emptiness i felt with you.
i know? i think? either way, it seems that we always lived best in bittersweet, we always lived best in shytown. certain chords and smells are burned into me forever, and always, for everyone i can't forget and shouldn't but maybe should i feel weighed down by all the places i've been and places i've lived and people left in all those places then i don't know or i do know or i shouldn't know and i can't know anymore. coming and going is more normal than it should be, and we both know this, know the tangerine tinge of the streetlight, know the poem i wrote about standing in your room in the middle of the night and being unable to see the night from the shield of condensation we're all just becoming condensation of each other and blending and breathing and beating and moaning and occasionally we'll run into each other but call it kissing but it still seems so silent. but it still seems so violent.. there are worse things you could do to someone than love them, never forget even artichokes have hearts, never forget we made it, the broken mandolins, guitar strings, the woods, the creek, the walk, the bog, the abandoned house, the time in the backyard where the piano was hauled out and in and tuned and i always felt awkward but wanted to convince myself otherwise. i wish you could just come home and we could lay in clean sheets and never leave but i dont know who you are. who has been here forever and why and never and forever are so fucking scary but so fucking constant, if there is one thing that is never or if there is one thing that is forever what could it be if you would choose? what would your body be made of if you could choose? do you wish you could choose? its so fucking slow its so fucking fast its so fucking sad but its so fucking beautiful, as if we are in a car, plane or train and see that it is moving, told that it is moving, but we feel as though it barely creeps forward but do we care afterall? who do we know when do we know them how do introductions ever happen do i over think why can't my feelers, tendrils go away and what is this consciousness i see but do not experience or am aware of. i want to climb out the window and to be aided by rope and honey and fire and a gun in my garter and know no man, know no woman, feel no pain except the physical or maybe the emotional and i wonder if there is every any difference any difference between anything or anyone ever. im bad at people. im bad at talking, i've been stuttering again i've been falling again, i've been lying again, and i'm sorry. i've been good and i've been so used to disappointment and shelving my feelings that why should any of this suprise me? i haven't been sleeping but i have been eating and drinking and whiskey is a volatile friend but whiskey is a consistent friend but who are my friends i wish you knew what i think but i really wish i knew what i think and at the same time its more interesting but i dont when you said the best thing, remember when you said the best thing? you said to me and i closed my eyes and you couldn;t see because it was dark but then again do you remember? it made me think i may not be alone but we all know that's not true and thats ok it really is because if theres anything to be valued it could possibly be the truth but THEN AGAIN to we even know that? fold it crush it bend it break it but then pin it onto your chest right onto your skin and relish the sensation. all of it.