down here the weather's fine, but the vinegar's blistered our eyes
teetering between one extreme and the next, days pass and you wonder if they were ever even there. you stalk the ground looking for traces of eraser residue, thinking someone made a mistake and cleared the wrong portions of the portrait that is your life. you fumble over memories and the tasks you promised yourself into doing, but nothing connects and there is no proof to it existing - nor is there anything to argue otherwise. you remember one thing - the one thing that has become the solution to all your equations. the solution with no stable meaning. it's something you always come back to; something you recognize as being your own. and if you could, you'd stop their heart from beating and offer yours. just to be closer to them.
just to be with them.
Comments
hmmm, prose. I would love to write a lot more prose if I didn't babble so much. None of it would make sense, and would be a constant run-on.
Thanks for the compliment, btw :)