rude awakenings

I left the room without saying goodnight. i mumbled something incoherent and unimportant and turned away and left. I felt bad, sort of. As if saying good night was something so hard to do that I'd rather just walk away. But the thought of any personal connection was uncomfortable. It made no sense, but somehow it just ended up that way. There had been a time of crisis, of trauma, that left our communication breathless. And starved of oxygen, cell by cell, it began to die. But as the heart restarted and air once again passes through us, we have escaped death. But with the price of dead nerves, never letting us grow closer. scarred tissue stopped us from speaking as we once had. The confidations of a young daughter to her mother were lost forever, replaced with the wounded distance of an estranged teen.

i love the wrinkles you leave on the bed sheet in the morning.

there's someone in my head, but it's not me. and it kinda feels good. I've had a sort of realization. That beautiful places exist, with beautiful people. And I can have my mind blown in the most amazing way. I have now tried every drug I wanted to, now it's just time to refine my highs and lows. and only the best environments will do. Windswept cliffs with wave-cut caves in which we blast pink Floyd into the natural surround sound of sedimentary sand and ocean pebbles. Forgetting time, only told by the rising of the swirling tides and the setting of the western sun in a bed of water. where nothing mattered but the basics. that we had food in our stomachs and shelter from the wind, because our hearts were full of the freedom of nature, bursting like balloons, floating through the forest trails. swiftly we ran through knotted ground, down rivers that streamed through the trees, upon trees upon trees. red dirt made from wood upon wood. cool green shadows shiver through tr