they pay to kiss your feet

since there's no one else around, we let our hair grow long and forget all we used to know. then our skin gets thicker from living out in the snow.

Friday, July 06, 2012


i think if i were different
i would have notebooks filled with
paper cut-outs
clippings of grass
drops of dew
and a piece of red thread to hold it all together.

but my notebooks are filled with words
scribbled thoughts
bouncing brain spew
things i need to change

(i always think i need to change)

so i make lists
action items
things i can finish
because i am a finisher
because if i can't,
i am incapable of letting them go.

i don't know how to leave things undone.
how to leave words
unspoken and under my tongue

but who is listening?
are you?


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