teetering like Bambi on acid

You love anyone willing to be with you. I no longer feel replaced. I was actually just standing in your queue -I haven’t missed you since day 2 

The world has frozen over with a stir craze infesting  us. Leaving us with a pale, motionless, sense of  being. Curled under the sheets waiting for light,  wrapped up in layers waiting for the heat. Restless, twisting and anticipating for the next change  point to begin somewhere, somehow and begging "please, just come soon!." But, I think I miss the dandelions most of all As they pop through the dirt each spring, rave through the summer with the comforting breeze, then they topple over each fall under the weight of the leaves and leave me colourless for six months.

The sun crept up against backs that were turned away from the world. Cradled in the corner of a coffee shop at the bitter hour of five am. I swallowed the last sip of over priced coffee. Dammit, I regret the money I spend on that over priced coffee. It drains over chipped edges onto my sharp tasting tongue. With that overbearing taste I decided it was time to head. Back down, to that south west town. I reluctantly refer to it as home.

He drinks coffee in the morning while I drink tea through out the night. He breaths heavy when he lays beside me. Unfortunately, I sleep extremely light.  His “do it yourself” books line the shelf while my suspense and thrillers tile the floor. He sets his work boots nicely on the mat but,  I kick my shoes across the room when I walk in the door. He views everything in numbers mixed with lines and patterns. Yet, I understand the world through language and words.  But, we both like to travel and raisins in our oatmeal - so I think we'll be fine.

Sometimes I wonder about the ledge of water and how it would feel to come crashing down so quickly. Gliding on air with the windows closed tightly collecting my breaths on the window pane ahead. Smashing droplets of water tear the interior, turning the leather rigid from smooth. Lights simply burn out while the horn  fades into the sea. Sometimes I wonder about the ledge of the water as it pushed over the edges of me. 

With nowhere to be and nowhere to go,  the bedrock, nor the bedroom feels like home. That sly question you asked only killed my spirit,  slowly you caused it to toil and drown. Another date with my bottle of wine accompanied by another night sitting on the kitchen floor. Phones pulled from the jacks, appliances unplugged,  while the heat pumps from the cracked floor boards. 

It’s been years since we last kissed. Through a car window, before you pulled away. As I picked my backpack up from the ground the air felt dense. I walked in the front door, collapsed on the couch, and harshly exhaled.

When I sped down that road of steel and lights I could feel it. This pressure on my chest, an imitation of water in my lungs. Suffocation. The way I'd let go of the gripped wheel, the way the metal would conceal me. A styled coffin is a must. Finished - so neatly. Done - so quickly.  Lights hitting the water, waves turn into sinking rings. Bitter air slowly poured from my chest.  

I need to leave this misery of a place. But I can't go for a few more days, clocks and calendars holding back. A month, a week, some time left to go. Away soon for the sake of my own. I still have things to pack, loose ends to tie. As I'd like to finish with grace. For I will perfectly package then bundle up this memory. Neatly wrapped with red ribbon lace.

Within one night the tree out front became bare. Piles of colour lightly built beneath. The balcony is now lonely, it no longer looks like a hide away surrounded by trees. My window lets in only grey sunlight. The shadows from each shape have disappeared. I really don't mind, although this sounds like a complaint. Within only one night the tree out front turned cold and bare. But, it's okay because I find comfort in knowing a new end is near.