if my stomach could cry, it would come out my weephole.

oh im such a failure
i whine
and she tells me the xrays are
fine.

------------------
im on my way. on my way to making things work. everyday i walk out the goddamn door and i think: ah yes, today, to-fucking-day. not looking forward to it as much as knowing
i wont have a chance at today like i did yesterday or will tomorrow.

who am i kissing?
when i lost my main person to kiss, two little girls suddenly trusted me and sometimes when they kiss me i think: "i could cry" and so i make sure the pink in their cheeks is from passion for running and eating and throwing smoothed glass and finding the perfect bug to poke.....
and when i hold their bodies out over the sound, high tide, i let them get sand on their feet. its september and the waters colder but our feet dry, radiating on the concrete.
its warm enough today,
we all understand
about today.


[and its these times i think: PERFECT].