one, two, three, four, five, and six.

one more detour and you are done. two more nights and you are out. three more pairs of jeans that don't look quite right.

i move, you move. never will i admit it. dashingly i will avoid all fabrications of your mind, and breathing hard for the last time we shall fall fall fall back.

four people once judged me. five people once hurt me. and six?

six means nothing. just a number on a die that has no control and represents yet another one of my unreasonable fears for having no trust for my split ankles and twisted balance.

tell me what to believe and for once i will take your word as truth. for i am gullible, but not quick to trust.