After graduating from high school, it took me four years to move from Missouri to Florida. Four years to get away.
Being left behind scares me, still.
Catapulted from the present to the past, I’m often held prisoner by my mind.
Don’t let me go.
Ever felt like you’re so happy you can’t do anything but cry? Tears of true joy fall, deep breaths get deeper, teeth like piano keys. It’s a wild look of jubilance.
Fall in love.
Girls should close their legs. Don’t let the man in, don’t let the Devil in, she said.
How do you move an immovable object?
Isn’t it funny how leaving doesn’t always mean you’ve left?
Just in case you didn’t know, contrary to your words, I know I can.
Kites wave wildly through the wind in Missouri. Like Dreams, they snap free, and in their free fall they die.
Let me go, please. Please?
My mind is a mystery to me. Often times I wonder if I’m too stupid to understand or if I’m just brilliant.
Not everything the light touches is good.
Obviously, things go well. They aren’t always bad. It ebbs and flows. Well, it ebbs more than it flows. At least it used to. Lately, the flow has pulled me along on a litter made from my hopes and dreams. There they are again…dreams.
Possibly a good time to stop here as the further I fall into this deep hole the further I’d have to climb myself back out, later, when I’m lucid. Lucid? Lucidity? Ludicrous? Lame? Liar? Layered? Lucid.
Q …
R…
S…
T…
U…
V…
W…
X…
Y…
Z…
The words fill me up but I can’t make them come out.
They strangle me, dark tendrils of ink wrap around my neck and fill my throat. Fill me up starting at my mouth, working down to my toes and out from underneath my nails.
However, I can’t continue. The letters sit in their jar, waiting for me to put them in order, to assign them a meaning.
Later, when I’m lucid.
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