tired (edit)

shit comes around.

i lost mine today. i'm not sure if i will find it again.

at last there is nothing left to say

yeah, you

happy fucking valentine's day (early, of course)

red book

green shirt, grey hair, wedding ring...
catch him looking
catch his eye
he lingers behind after his blonde leaves his side to seek out the gay father / star
too bad, i thought (and toyed with the idea of saying it aloud)

passing through the little park on the corner
(reprise)
all the good ones are taken, i said
(stop to write it all down now and i freeze)

this, always...
i remind you of the girl who broke your heart
(fall, and wonder)
she doesn't deserve you
and somehow, i do - for better and worse

(not) broken, still
i need to do one thing each week that grounds me
active adventure fantasy
the kids, the calm, the love
i write
and one day i will paint
i might even dance again...

maybe
this will become my journal about the end of a particular kind of hope
and the beginning of my search for another
soul, voice, self

not dead yet

drummers and photographers will be the end of me
(thank god for biceps!)

There's a fine, fine line between love and a waste of time.
- Avenue Q

sleep

new

he sent me a love song in a language i barely understand...
at least, i think he did

angry rant to the universe

1.
went to the ocean this summer
to get used as the object of a revenge fantasy
(obviously i did not know this part of the plan)
a woman abandons her children, anger ensues
this much i understand
i gave my broken heart to the cause...
and while he drank himself numb
i put food in the mouths of his little ones
because tiny friends should not have to feel our grown-up pain

the other day,
his well-meaning brother blindsided me with an unsolicited call to arms
against a deadbeat mother...
i looked at the image of her face
i remembered his
i pushed away memories of small blond smiles and skinny, happy hugs
then
i thought of groceries and mountains of cider cans and violent silence
and
i declined.

i already paid at the door
i cannot save any of them
he made that clear

2.
found an interesting and cute guy on the book of faces
friend of a friend, the way these things go now
overcame my shyness (it's easier in writing)
introduced myself
he wrote back, once
(maybe i've now blown it by being too intense and curious right away, i forget this freaks people out even though it's harmless and they don't know yet how bored i'll soon be)
waited until he returned from afar to log in...

his first new friend after me?
the girl my asperger's ex dumped me for
we all live on opposite corners of the continent
same world, yes, but still too small...

sigh.

you can't make this shit up.