Monday, February 28, 2011

6th st never leaves me

nostalgia.
the deranged best friend.
all i see are numbers
all i think about is that porch
we used to sit in
dangling our legs over the grass
toes in the air
eyes to the sky
wide
high
and you were always high
popping some pills
smoking
taking
talking in the dark park
at night counting the angels
i wanted to be your angel
but you wouldn't let me hold your hand
but you wrote me a love letter
i have it still
somewhere
do i?
i do.
i found it as a surprise in a box with other letters and papers that i should throw away
the best thing about that house was that there were secrets and confidences
that we all never threw away
seriously
they are still buried deep inside there.

Monday, February 14, 2011

ODD FUTURE

you are intriguing me.