Scribbles on a Mint Green Paper, while attending a woodwind ensemble concert:
This piano is like a
startled epiphany
caught on a string
so quickly do [her] hands move
so quickly does she capture my heart
witht he abrupt death
marked by the symbol!
[Blood!]
I'd be here
with music
with thee
enthralled...
we'd both love this moment,
transient as the music,
infinite as the music,
this feeling
with thee.
How can I survive with such business? I have no time for anything. Expresso shot before tutoring. Car ride with my 'sibling,' Joe. Energetic rejuvination with kids and scissors and projects. Pick up Joy in darkening sky. Woodwinds and Irish, Spanish, Moorish, American, piano pieces. Return home and ask my mom for permission to go see him....indirectly, but ended up being a direct plea. It was weak of me, but it had to be done. Seven months is too long, and yes, I could hold up longer, but misery would not be so far behind. As I told Joy of the length of seperation she gave me this whimper and sad eyes and my stolid voice saying "Stop, you'll make me cry."
It's barely Wednesday tomorrow, and I've forgotten the feel of my home. Everytime I'm here, my mind is elsewhere. Incomplete runes on my desk. A shoelace. Mannequin dancing by porcelain. Not enough caffeine, or food.
I better not keep my hopes up, since that will only make the fall so much more harmful.
It's always better like that anyway.
My mind races away in daydreams, but I pull back the leash, breaking its neck.
Bones snap.
And it lays motionless on the floor, awkward, lifeless, askew.
startled epiphany
caught on a string
so quickly do [her] hands move
so quickly does she capture my heart
witht he abrupt death
marked by the symbol!
[Blood!]
I'd be here
with music
with thee
enthralled...
we'd both love this moment,
transient as the music,
infinite as the music,
this feeling
with thee.
How can I survive with such business? I have no time for anything. Expresso shot before tutoring. Car ride with my 'sibling,' Joe. Energetic rejuvination with kids and scissors and projects. Pick up Joy in darkening sky. Woodwinds and Irish, Spanish, Moorish, American, piano pieces. Return home and ask my mom for permission to go see him....indirectly, but ended up being a direct plea. It was weak of me, but it had to be done. Seven months is too long, and yes, I could hold up longer, but misery would not be so far behind. As I told Joy of the length of seperation she gave me this whimper and sad eyes and my stolid voice saying "Stop, you'll make me cry."
It's barely Wednesday tomorrow, and I've forgotten the feel of my home. Everytime I'm here, my mind is elsewhere. Incomplete runes on my desk. A shoelace. Mannequin dancing by porcelain. Not enough caffeine, or food.
I better not keep my hopes up, since that will only make the fall so much more harmful.
It's always better like that anyway.
My mind races away in daydreams, but I pull back the leash, breaking its neck.
Bones snap.
And it lays motionless on the floor, awkward, lifeless, askew.