it's leftovers again, kids: excerpts from the colorado files

i feel scattered here. i wish i didn't come. nervous confidence keeping me from belonging but comfortable enough to have allies.

when i say something no one responds. blank stares. i feel naked. i feel if i expose much more -- the tears, the fear, the faults -- that no one will be there. i stand on a rock facing a cloud. i look in. i don't want to belong. soul left on the stove too long, trickles over weak shoulders. i am overcooked. i scratch at the page to try to make sense of it all. i feel it's been weeks not just a day. i sing. one day. eyes crying in reverse. salty tears filling my stomach drying me out. i wear a smile.

my apple stem lands on M. this makes me happy temporarily.

i know i'm not lonely, just misplaced. heart in sleeve not in chest. my checkerboard soul kinged with all black.

excuse me while i count the stars inside your eyes. i'd crumble for that pick-up line. 
¶ 2:32 AM |