4.

- there is a day called tomorrow that you will never get to see. but still you must always be preparing for it, setting mysterious goals to follow into the grey. if you don't care about tomorrow then you're not living.
- what am i doing, then?
- just walking, and breathing i guess.
- what's wrong with that?
- nothing. but love and happiness are in tomorrow.
- i don't care so much about those anymore.

-------------------

- there's a storm inside my head.
- just shine a flashlight through it.
- i can't.
- if you are the storm, then you can bring the calm.

-------------

her memory is like honey crawling on me.
it moves from my bottom lip over my chin.
sticky and sweet.
and i am powerless,
limbs locked together.
i close my eyes and re-live,
sugar thoughts and old smiles,
things that are gone.
holding my strength in the balance.
i open my eyes and look on,
towards wildflowers and the breeze,
the raw honey i am swimming in
is thick and eternal,
but i can move through it now.
i can push forward,
pull myself out of it.
and go from being trapped by the sweetness of yesterday,
to a blissful emptiness,
a canvas on which to start anew.

TARGET PRACTICE
go go go go go
hey hey hey hey hey
my my my my my
go go go go go
SAY YES

A BREAK FROM

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Those nights don’t come along anymore, when we might lock ourselves in the house with a rented movie. Disconnect the phone. Once, shortly after we met, I cooked dinner for Sarah, fish I had bought that morning at the market. She stood behind me at the stove with her hands on my stomach.
“You use too much oil,” she said, and I felt her smile on the back of my neck. But I liked to hear the onions scream and watch hot oil fly from the pan.