Post Fall
it's getting colder and in preparation for the snow i'm melting down my
heart so that i won't have to try too hard to thaw

a season of subtlety
 should i say something sentimental?
there's really every reason to forget.
but why haven't i forgotten yet?

does this date still mean anything?

i pierce my glare down a road so close to your old home.
to our old memories.
to a world of could have been and once was.

i remember young words
and fresh snow
and old cars.

(no subject)

what have you done?
you've cut the blood from your veins.

on fire
it's a certain time of year every time
after the orange glow when the heat starts kicking on
&&& you start bundling up for that first snow fall
that's when it all floods back
cold roads with deep memories
flickr photographic pilot light memory
i never remember colors til this time of year
&&& it's each time every time
you'd think after so long the past wouldn't persist
but it keeps kicking on
even through the subconscious spring and summer
and all through the autumn
the dormant dreams bleed thicker than blood
&&& redder than your whole heart. on fire

(no subject)
That's quite the crack you've made. disappear into hollow abyss. make known the mistake. let life know it's nothing.

synaptic convalescence
being home is a time bomb and the threshold of tolerance is weak and interminable. try to wash it away with noise & poetry & other distractions. it's later than i thought and it's comforting to know you still don't use the proper tense of words and that you appear to just be sinking deeper be festering and wallowing even though you probably think your position is elevated. and it's easy for me to say you're not amounting to anything. but like i said, it's later than i thought so it's almost time to drink.

(no subject)
ships with holes will sink and i will swim

the date

it's about remembering things how you want to remember them
not necessarily how they actually were
for accuracy is not always actuality

just the lowest i have ever felt
remembering dates and skipping through years and colors. math equations to go along with photographs, sifting through the dust. just one word sends a jolt to the mid-section. nothing could ever be as it was, it's just as if it never was. memory is the most deceptive mistress, mistrust this.

things taking the place of other things. how can they occupy my mind? how can sound conjure memory so directly, so distinctly? maybe it's not really, maybe its not really anything, but maybe it's not really nothing. how can songs be so seasonal? how can this soundtrack make me remember meaning? (in a place that no longer exists) the sound of snow falling and black and white, being cold out and warm inside. i wish i could remember what song was playing when i asked you to get back in the car.

it's never worth worrying. no one cares because i've been gone too long. i shut off. dropped out. let's get drunk and forget why we wish we didn't exist.


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