(Letters to my brothers and others) March 2005 to May 2007. |
4-26-05 I'll deny you with my best poker face and you'll still know I'm lying. Even if I'm the Eiffel Tower of conversations on the conveyor belt of yours. If it becomes disharmonious then we are thugs to this nature of love. The memories are washing over me with dirty water. How do I come clean over something that traps you while I can flee at anytime a free man? There you are in the distance. There you are in my arms. There you are on the highway. There you are. There, you're gone. The media made me try to make more of the knots we've tied. They've solidified over time spent unfestered and my hands've become wires extending from my scrambled brain and hollowed-out heart. I knew this wouldn't be easy, but it certainly wasn't what I expected. I'm staring at you, with my eyes flossing you. If you don't kiss me, then your Icelandic-cold glare will tell me you're not alone. Drink your diet clear cola while you chomp like a cow and yell at me for the same reasons. I've never been more ready to take you home and shut you up. We're ready we're ready... we're leaving... you're gone. And so is another of our moments. (respect and thanks due to G.D.; CMG) |