The one bedroom apartment;
where your drinking habits only scare your cat.

i can't stop thinking of your hands. everything is spilling through the cracks of my fingers like hourglass sand. i can't take control of anything, it's no wonder i've always hated driving. the words on the page are starting to blur and i can't seem to get my eyes to focus because all they can see is your name. this year in psychology i learned that we choose what we want to listen to, that we shut out everything that doesn't seem important to us and it makes sense now that i don't hear anything unless it rhymes with your name.

NO WAIT, BUT BUT, WHERE ARE YOU MOVING TO?*

WELL SEE, I AM GOING TO LIVE IN THE MOMENT.
-
**ARE YOU COMING?

SWEETHEART,

FOR SOME,
LOVE IS THE CURE.

AND

FOR SOME,
LOVE IS THE DISEASE.

When ones soul can hold their heart
Warmth and compassion flows like art
Casting away all pain and sorrow
Able to stride through the misty shadow

Eyes now cleared of all stains
Light uncovers shaded plains
Existence floats right on through
Close in step you do too