you are watching yourself. the ceiling that you are staring at will fall without your eyes to hold it up. breathe softly.

feeling the lips move is the strangest part of all, hearing the words and a voice i've known my entire life through. it is mine, i whisper. and i am talking to myself again.. i chase my sentences with two dots, i can never quite catch words before they fall and so it is trailing. we are very clever, we are gone.

so the branches are membranes tangled in the sky, holding the bluish grays together, barely, clouds break away and feel like look like move like drifting. (and i wait for some words to float off the page, into your eyes.)

lately i've been thinkin' i'd love to be a star
and i'd love to shine like that
only when i feel so dark

it was a busy day and the dust has settled again.

this isn't the same, you know.

i'd ask for help if i thought i wanted to remember.. i think i have forgotten how to live inside myself, again.

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