heartbeat scuba dive
august21twenty19
how can you breed all of this love and force it back down sobbing throats? pain is ever-changing; a year ago I was a mourner, and now I feel obligated to keep paying respects to the dead.
it's that smell of moldy cigarette smoke - the one you never want to smell, the one that clings to ancient furniture and rec room garages. once it was beautiful and toxic. once it was a killer in white. now she's a rotten wasteland. sounds familiar, doesn't it?
different kind of lonely, never really alone anymore. hearts took distance shaking, vibrations sent both ways. cardial telephone line. something made me listen today. your heart sending me some vibrations, I guess.
left behind to fester in the grasslands of my love, divided universes. still such a pity that I can't say I would unwind time in yards of spool, cutting and knotting out the parts that chopped and sliced. time knows mourning most of all.
still mourning, just also not drowning. what a shame.