I went out
Scarf-less
Breathless
Into the night
Into my light

Into the narrow
Sober streets
Exclusive to me
In my moment
Of plight

Crooked alleys
Slanted shadows
They preach to me
My mentality
Creeping
Up my silhouette
Strangling my bare neck and
Holding back tears
Held back all these years

I feel light

So don’t worry
I’ll be back soon,
Whoever you are.

All in the audio of our room and what was said.

but for those who could hear, here is a parting gift.
Love you all.


Carolyn Wonderland performs "Victory of Flying" on The Texas Music Scene
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k4gzNLthBM8

(thank you Carolyn Wonderland for the "keeping my head Low." and keeping Lo in the heart where she belongs.)

I miss Chicago.

I miss walking everywhere with my best friend.

I wish I had been brave enough to take his hand on those walks.

I miss walking with my puppy to go meet him after class.

I miss the adventures we had, and planning more adventures with him.

I miss splitting pastries and snacks and meals with him.

I miss joking with him, laughing with him, playing videogames with him.

I miss the silly little nudging game we used to play on the couch, on the train, on the bus.

I miss when our stop was near and he would turn back and offer his hand so I wouldn't fall...and he would lead me to the door before letting go.

I remember the first time he held me...I thought I would lose my mind, I thought I would cry, I thought I would die.

When I close my eyes, I can still feel how his hands felt, intertwined with mine.

I miss laying in bed with him, listening to his heartbeat and just breathing him in, his arms around me.

I remember the time he fell asleep, his arms around me, his hands in my hair, his face so close to mine.

I should have kissed him then. Instead, I confessed when he woke...and he listened to me and let me cry for what couldn't be.

I miss when he would take my face in his hands and tell me everything would be alright.

He doesn't love me. Not like that. But dear god I felt loved, oh so loved, those two weeks.

Bed is the target
Not my bed
That's on the floor
And its a bit mishapen

Its covered in fur
And its got hidden biscuits
And a bone I put there
But can't get out now

No, my bed isn't the target
Its YOUR bed that's the target
The one with the douvet, the pillows
and fluffy, fluffy sheets

Its got a big springy mattress
And it looks nice sometimes
When its all covered in
MY paw marks

But it doesn't smell nice, though
Its smells of flowers
I would like it better
If it smelled of fox poo

But after I roll in the fox poo
You never let me on the bed
So how am I going to get it
to smell nicer

That's what I think about
When we're out on a walk
And you throw the ball
And I ignore it, and go for a roll

I roll in squirrel poo
Not as nice fox poo
But I make it nicer
by jumping in the river

You think a quick shower
with the garden hose
Will dissipate all these lovely smells
But you forget the shampoo...and I WIN

I get in the house
Dry myself on YOUR dressing gown
But still I smell
absolutely lovely

Like lamp posts, and drains
And bins
And that really nice smell
When I've been running in the wind

And no one's locked the bedroom door
So I run and I jump
And I roll and I roll
On YOUR bed

For five whole minutes
Then I hear you coming
Slowly stepping up the stairs
So I jump off your bed

Then jump into mine
Then wait and wait and wait
Then suddenly you jump up
And leave

I've no idea where you go all day
No idea, at all
But you've got a sneaky idea
Where I am

You know I'm on your bed
You know I'm making it smell lovely
Just for you when you come home
Hope you appreciate it.
Lots of Love From Your Dog

Ive always gone for walks
Mostly after sunset
But sometimes during
To forget what time
Was about to roll by or
To witness the flowers
And families and friendships
Live before me
Actually told me nothing good

I began around 6 the second
I saw the road behind my house
After winter made it clear
To see where the path led
In front of me, or behind the
Worlds biggest fence
Wouldn't stop me, still

At 6 they were entertaining
But now its just a challenge though
I'd me lying if I didn't say
The rain still makes me think
I can be six in puddles
Except that's blatantly false
Because I know Ive been
And also shouldn't always be
Smoking cigarettes like this
Is new to me

I went on a nature walk
with no idea,
no preparation,
only to take some pictures.

At a certain point
I got lost
with no phone
no one but me,
my thoughts,
and the layers of
cold sunken through.

I had no idea where I was,
only faith that I would get out
at some point
if I kept going.

I forgot everything
except this poem, my camera, and my next step.

I've learned many a thing,
in walking with the moon.
Most importantly I know, the night is a bitter mistress.
She gives no helping hand,
nor warmth or comfort.
No,
she offers naught but a cool touch and a silken whisper that says,
"You are all alone."
But I impress,
I've learned many a thing in walking with the moon.
A muse, is a muse, I suppose.
And I know,
A heavy heart is no burden to place
on a thing of flesh and blood.
So I'll saunter softly, through the lonely dark,
Sorting through lifes' simple pleasures,
and utter miseries.
Knowing that sometimes answers are only found,
when you're walking with the moon.

I’ll endeavour to look brightly now.
Knees bouncing and brittle,
No ginger treading in the endless streets.
These footsteps clink like charms
Through all of the peaceful, curtained slumbers.

And I sing, you see,
To myself, and only me.
I sing my sorrow like an exorcism
And it leaves.
I am free, I am here now.

My shadow is so joyfully invisible,
But I am here.
Aren’t I?
I promise I am here.