It was made that way; broken, unusable, incomplete.

with love and squalor,
ekw

In that heavy space between consciousness and sleep, where one visits for split seconds once or twice per day, that's where I see you. I cross over like any other person at first, but instead of barreling forward and onward to full unconsciousness, I hesitate there. I claw and grapple my way back for just one more glance, one more fleeting ( Read more... )

I watched a deer scratch through the snow to get at the acorns buried underneath a huge old oak at work. I thought, now that's an animal with a purpose. That's an animal that knows what she wants, and precisely how to get it.

I'd like to meet just one human that I could say that same thing about.

with love and squalor,
ekw

I could use a long nap. Or a short romance.

with love and squalor,
ekw

It's time to move on. It's time to let go. It's time to come out.

with love and squalor,
ekw

I keep having this horrifyingly emotional dreams about people that don't actually exist. I wake up every morning with a broken heart, and no one to blame except for myself.

with love and squalor,
ekw

You must live close, I've seen you drive by.

with love and squalor,
ekw

( Read more... )

I have a lot of feelings, but not a lot of friends. I want to call you and tell you that it isn't over, it never will be over, that this weekend and all weekends will always be the same. That the sadness in your eyes won't ever leave. That I will never trust you, but will always yearn to be able to. And that you won't try to earn it, not actively, ( Read more... )

I know you are tired of me. But what else can we do? This has been our routine for ten years. We brew up like a hurricane and collide, and then immediately retreat for months at a time. You look at me like I'm some fragile and distant creature that you love but only barely. It complicates you; makes your eyes heavy. I can tell ( Read more... )