i'm in his house now but i can't seem to be able to pull the trigger.

a night of horrible dreams and an empty house in the morning. walking through the fog in my underwear crying and wondering how i let my life get to this point where love is not enough.

be leaving sunday, back to the city, for i dont know what. but i know i can't stay here.

so many sirens. this has to be fixed.

my poles are off kilter. my everything seems off kilter ( Read more... )

At work this morning, sobbing on a stool in the basement between the civil rights books, tears so salty they burned my face, a stranger walked down the aisle, a grey shirt and shaggy hair without hesitation, set down his bag, got on his knees and gently wrapped his arms around my shaking body, cradling me as a i wept. no words, a small kiss on the ( Read more... )

dreams have saved me.

so good today.

how are you? or tell me a story, or tell me a secret.

My hair isn't as long, cut by he whose presence i treasure most lately over a motel 6 sink while i chainsmoked to the mirror ( Read more... )

and he called me his indian maiden, placed another feather in my hair, and kissed my hand.

and all i could say was i'm just not yours.

the story of holding oneself apart, to hold oneself together.

leaving.

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