Day 10: Most days, i’m no sure what I’m doing. I’ve run away so many times–not physically but mentally–that i wonder if I’m dead or alive. Is it all a dream? Will I wake up in a different reality? These thoughts never did anyone any good. My cell rings. It’s my boss. I’m late. Again. I get a large coffee with a shot to keep away what chases me…
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DAY 9: The wind is angry and my head aches. There was a time when the only care in the world was looking into your eyes. But life is life. It sucks up and away precious moments unless I hang on tight; ride the rainbow in your eyes. The longing I crave is a crutch. The familiar itch I can’t scratch. You are gone, but only for a while. I wander down the street–forgetting that I have to work– I walk into the local place with familiar faces. The numb is all I can focus on…cuz I know someday the ride will end.
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DAY 8: I wake up disoriented. I reach for you but you are not there. Your scent hangs in the air, like a cigarette haze. The soft + hard of you lingers in my bed, a reminder of the good old days. We are twin-stars in orbit around the sun, waiting for catapult or for burn. The moon dips to light the way for others in need of enlightenment or saving. I watch the birds outside the window, the sway of the blossoming branches, the silent rush of falling water, and for the moment, I find myself floating with the heartbeat of the earth and longing for something I cannot name.
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DAY 7: To say it’s all normal, causes the pain to bleed into the edges, creating a watercolor in hues of red. We orbit each other in a drunken cloud, lightening in our touch. And for a while, lunch is sanctuary. “Did you ever think life would be this?”
All I can reply is, “Not in a million lifetimes, yet here we are.”
#Whiskey+Moonlight©2019 #kw2019twitterstory #fiction #prose #poetry