The water drips down my bottle and back into the ocean.
It’s almost 2006 all over again.
The electricity surrounds me with the lights off.
Cue the gloom?
Let me get a Rob Roy.
Are you a regular here?
This is Manhattan.
And you’re no married type.
But you are.
Remember Pasadena.
Roses grow here, there, and here.
But you already knew that.
Knew how I crumbled with an “I’m proud.”
But I never heard it.
I was lost in the Long Beach cloud.
It never stopped raining.
I was playing with fire.
You brought the ice
after I danced with her.
We all laughed for hours.
Locked notes in origami.
Clokey characters defined.
A future 17-mile drive.
All based on a lie.
A night of Smashing Pumpkins.
You all thought you were so funny.
“Can I kiss you?”
Such a sweetheart.
A piano player and a guitarist
make the most beautiful music together.
But no one hears
it.
A heartbreak at “fucking Yucca.”
Do you remember that?
They really do that.
That’s why you’re a favorite.
I read those lines better than you,
but there’s only room for one lead.
You handled it like a champ.
I stood up there to feed.
You were so mad.
Best show ever.
She was really hot.
Quiet for two hours home.
They all heard it.
All of them.
She would never eat at a place like this.
That’s her favorite seat.
Like a lost hiker in the night,
I go north.
The exit?
Olive.
Like a bird flying in the spring,
I go north.
The exit?
Olive.
Doesn’t realize the effect
when I go north.
The exit?
Olive.
Right now it’s not looking good
as I try go north.
The exit?
Olive.
But I will conquer this road.
I’m heading north.
The exit?
Olive.
As the snow falls on my windshield,
the world is blinded of us.
The slow motion parade of the city streets
filled with people running toward us.
Let’s make them jealous.
My hands are full
and scarlet.
They won’t open the gate for me.
I don’t belong in there, I’m told.
I asked them why.
He told me.
I conceded.
“We’re all guilty.”
They haven’t made it there yet.
Not sure if they will.
How can I get in
if I’ve never met the king?
I turned around.
I don’t belong there.
There has to be another place
hiding between the stars.
Different tomorrow than today.
I hold my tongue when I know what to say,
But trust me it’s not worth it.
It’s not worth it.
I know I said slow.
I know it’s fast,
But this sidewalk looks as familiar
as the dark side of the moon.
Forgive my close embrace.
If I make you nervous,
I’m sorry.
But I’m not sorry.
My meaning is strong.
I don’t step on cracks,
For my mother thinks of me better,
But God am I close.
I can taste the silver,
the slight reflection from the slight light.
Tears flow down the river.
I am home for the first time.
Crossing the moat,
I get chills from the cold
water pouring into my vision,
fuzzy.
The drawbridge hangs.
Around me are flying swords,
bow and arrows.
Musical notes.
Can I hide here
under the vacuum?
Constantly watching.
Constantly judged.
Fence is too high.
I may never get tall enough.
I’ll wait for it to come down.
Waiting.
The red sneaks through.
I am troubled.
Can’t believe what you have done.
I read.
The world needs to hear,
but no one is listening here.
There are people listening,
on the other side.
You’re almost there.
A few more steps.
You’ve been on this path before.
Begins to look familiar.
I lost it.
But it’s not mine to lose.
Remember the end of July.
I lost it.
A laugh that echoes in the heart,
from a joke too funny.
A smile that stretches around the world
and back into my eyes.
A memory of not what we did,
but what was said, and where.
A dancer in her own mind,
a happy girl in mine.