I forgot how much I HATE small talk when I'm not small talking with you.

I really only care about the little things when you're telling them to me.

who knew?

sorry for all the interruptions.

I think I deleted all my comments.

see you friday shhh.

Once there was a girl who lived in the mirror, in a place where rain rises from the ground and animals speak latin and smoke vanilla cigarettes and everyone talks to themselves, has friends, drinks ink and paper flavored tea. And this girl, she sighed and stared at her reflection, tucked her hair behind her ears and thought about how tragically monotonous her life had become and wished that she could find a place where not everything was made of music.

story of my life...

New Orleans

I'm moving to Louisiana, it's decided.

Festival of Lights, India.

Steady now, move slow.

troy fell, the romans, the greek,

the british empire's left with only a piece

and you and me,

turned out to be

totally separate entities.

and how to you fix childhood

turn from the safety that felt so good

the first love you claimed,

the invention of the wheel,

the flame.

how do you walk away?

you cant put a ship back in a bottle

it took too much time,

it's creation was subtle

nothing forced.

it all starts with splinters

but it ends in divorce

and all these arms that hold me still feel wrong

all the right words to the wrong tune of song

like trying to find a deer in the fog

or your way back home when it doesn't exist anymore

youre a scent that got caught in the breeze

a long distance phone call i still fall into with ease

you on my front porch, don't do this, please.

i made my bed but i need you to put me to sleep.

and im head drunk when i'm up at night

all of my words trying to fit in my mind

or the right way to tell you i cant do it this time.

wait i'm just kidding, everything's fine.

you're a phantom limb i still think i exists

gesturing wildly but making no sense

and still shocking, even now to see

the empty space where you used to be.

okay so it's over, i gave it my best

at the end of the day i can say no regrets

but it changes nothing, all these words i spit out

i still love you like always, nothing feels different now.

but i'll try and forget, you're a season that turned

the red leaves of autumn gone brown in the dirt

a memory fading on a page, what's it worth

we won't be the last to fall, and we weren't the first.

I need a job.