in foggy reflections behind skin in colors milked with lavenders and soft tangerines live half-hearted twists of sunburnt oranges and crimson riddled with hurt. I watched her share feelings after the fight to unbury them, they call her needy, I call her brave. words spoken to a half listening computer screen are easier to breathe life to than words spoken in the midst of whole listening souls, the main difference being a flow of sub-conscience-bearing mumbles springing through aching fingers and a backspace key. lingering thoughts of an absent pulse, a deep desire for another place, wondering and flipping thoughts over and over in my mind to feel them, feel them, again and again with each turn. how are you feeling today. we can't pretend it isn't there. is it because of me?
the same. I want to. never.
someday it will make sense.