Pushing a cart through the supermarket. Poptarts, orange juice; my worries like waves against a pier. Asking, crashing, pulling, eroding. Getting nowhere that can be told in short time, even though the sands will shift regardless.
...I forget to buy the catfood.
Flipping the channels late Sunday night, the taste of rejection fresh against my lips. The frustration of imbalance -- like little boy impudence for not getting to stay up late on a school night, clenching my fists and holding my breath.
...I forget to lock the door.
Driving to work this morning, trying to understand my own inability to let things go. Steering from memory, shifting lanes by instinct. The music in my ears a million miles behind me. Wipers on full, awash in the storm that closed windows make silent to everyone but me. Stop, lock, and put on the face for work.
...I forget to turn off my headlights.
Wide awake on a moonlit evening, driving without direction, one hand on the wheel. Electronic pulses mix with coffee and cream. Connections abridge over boneyard draws and the simplistic metaphors within words unsaid. Points scored for matching fives, as music catches up the distance and finds its way home again.
I forget to feel so sad.
...I forget to buy the catfood.
Flipping the channels late Sunday night, the taste of rejection fresh against my lips. The frustration of imbalance -- like little boy impudence for not getting to stay up late on a school night, clenching my fists and holding my breath.
...I forget to lock the door.
Driving to work this morning, trying to understand my own inability to let things go. Steering from memory, shifting lanes by instinct. The music in my ears a million miles behind me. Wipers on full, awash in the storm that closed windows make silent to everyone but me. Stop, lock, and put on the face for work.
...I forget to turn off my headlights.
Wide awake on a moonlit evening, driving without direction, one hand on the wheel. Electronic pulses mix with coffee and cream. Connections abridge over boneyard draws and the simplistic metaphors within words unsaid. Points scored for matching fives, as music catches up the distance and finds its way home again.
I forget to feel so sad.
[Listening to: Joe Jackson, "Breaking Us in Two"]
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