I'm back to filling old notebooks again, words strung together loosely while the sky turns blue w new time the way you add sprinkles to your vanilla ice-cream but dislike the same thing w donuts, you say the hold in the middle should be filled yet boston cream is too heavy; was my heart too big to carry or was the neon sign that read 'sweetheart' too bright for your soul to read; I know you've been climbing broken fences again till your knees are bleeding silver gold black brown and blue but you hide it so well w no cracks in your smile & no remorse in the same way you leave every morning at 10:11am before eggs and pancakes