(no subject)
it seems the days are getting colder. trying to chill my bones once more before warmth sets in and i can wear dresses and blouses with ease.
riding my bicycle in the snow last night. slowly, carefuly, trying to stop but gliding through stop signs as if i were free. but i am not. i am always connected. somehow, someway to something. i am not always by myself. i am never by myself even when alone on a street. other people are outside. other people are surrounding me.
i was frozen. hands red, unmoving. sitting in the shower wishing the water would melt me down like sugar cubes in coffee. drain me down with the dirt from my skin. turn me to dirt. turn me to glitter she whispered. turn me around.
there are some balloons left over, they lightly float through the breeze from my window. brightly coloured but partying no more.
jaqueline came by this morning to drop of her album for malloreigh and i. we sat listening. not too intently but just enough to fall into bell dreams.
i sit here. coffee on the counter, waiting for the paint to dry so i can paint again, layers upon layers. items upon items. the sunshine is trying to trick me. it's cool grin laughing miles away.
maybe we'll all go. tomorrow. tomorrow.
goodnight in the afternoon. goodnight forever.
riding my bicycle in the snow last night. slowly, carefuly, trying to stop but gliding through stop signs as if i were free. but i am not. i am always connected. somehow, someway to something. i am not always by myself. i am never by myself even when alone on a street. other people are outside. other people are surrounding me.
i was frozen. hands red, unmoving. sitting in the shower wishing the water would melt me down like sugar cubes in coffee. drain me down with the dirt from my skin. turn me to dirt. turn me to glitter she whispered. turn me around.
there are some balloons left over, they lightly float through the breeze from my window. brightly coloured but partying no more.
jaqueline came by this morning to drop of her album for malloreigh and i. we sat listening. not too intently but just enough to fall into bell dreams.
i sit here. coffee on the counter, waiting for the paint to dry so i can paint again, layers upon layers. items upon items. the sunshine is trying to trick me. it's cool grin laughing miles away.
maybe we'll all go. tomorrow. tomorrow.
goodnight in the afternoon. goodnight forever.