pfft.

It's as though she were singing to me. Squares and rectangles cover the ground.

I've lost it all, I think to myself. In a space so small how do you lose it all? I'm not sure what I love anymore, just that one day it's supposed to make sense.

I wait for that day. I hold flowers for that day. Someone told me he loved me that day.

Feb 16

Rosebuds on the garbage can. Piano player and wood. Homemade biscuits, beer and conversation.

You'd be 35 soon. I'm breathing in the world thinking of you. I'm getting drunk thinking of you. I'm depressed thinking of you.

My life moves on. I try to take it in. The rosebud garbage cans, piano players, and wood.

Looking ahead

I'm looking for familiarity, she said.

Likewise, he said. Where are you looking?

All the wrong places... she pauses. The past, mainly.

January 8th

We're still on the train. We've been looking out the windows these days. Watching the grey world fly by.

How odd a thing to get together to mourn the loss of someone you still can't believe is gone. I just kept thinking, someone's missing.

Hey it's Christmas

Everything feels wrong.

Focus on the positive. He's not in pain anymore. You're not moving forward without him, he's right there with you. Fuck you. Fuck that.

He's a little kid staring at the camera for his grade school photo. Each year as his teeth buck out further and his hair gets thicker, his smile gets smaller. He could have conquered the world, now he can hardly conquer elementary school.

I read a snippet of an interview. The person said each year the magic dies and the reality that the person won't jump out from behind a bush or meet you in the street becomes more real...

I'm tired. I'm always tired. I want to run and run and run and never stop.

Thank you

You're all around me, making each day a little easier.

Moving

We're sitting on a train letting the rhythmic bump-bump, bump-bump, lull us further into our catatonic state. Our eyes are empty. White sockets. No once else rides the rails, just me and my family. We boarded a week ago. We have no idea where we're going, just that one day we might get there.

We huddle together for dinner. We talk about the weather. We talk about the flowers. We talk about the food. We pay attention to the door that leads into the next car. We wait for it to open. We wait for someone to walk down the aisle to join us. We don't talk about waiting though, because we all know we'll be waiting forever.