8.13 monday 8.10, a bottle of pinot on the floor
by heart on Aug.10, 2009, under just words
the comets dust enters the atmosphere, and gets caught up in our weather systems
and in turn gets rained down on us and guess what…
i’ve had more than what i deserve of it all. i own it like the gathering of ghosts that look after me.
it runs thru me and fuck, you will want to take the collective thoughts of all in my world to figure me out
this audience is so small, you all know me. in your small ways, you think you know who i am
you make assumptions, and you feed your insecurities with who you want me to be, but you know deep inside that i am better than what you make me
what does that feel like, to know you will never see the flashes of light in a dark room that i do
to know that you can’t see my thoughts the way i do yours.
i am brilliance, i am the pillars of a star building itself
i can fucking walk away from the car crash, and you fucking know it.
i can walk away from being dropped off the side of the cliff, head first into the rocks, heart thru my mouth and into the sea.
when i’m dead you will wish you had spent all your moments with me because the hole that is left will swallow planets.
and then you will know i was there, and still live, but now only in brain flashes and when you wear my shirts to bed.
this all could have been so much more amazing than just a bunch of words… but i just don’t have it in me tonight.



