passport.

dear self,

please please please please do not repel people by being sarcastic due to team building exercises created for tweens.

thank you.

sincerely, self.

religion.

growing up.

part of me cannot accept that every second must be a prayer

every action a judgement

and having a lover of my soul

more of a God

watching over me

i cannot be perfect

but the last 4 years i have tried after innocence became cracked like a windshield

always growing

maybe i have given up

just accept me

i am done running

sit ups

crying about things that cannot be changed

i am here

and i am far from holy

but i will try to live the way you want

how can i live in a world and not be a part of it?

what do you want from me?

to live above everybody

everything

i feel dirty when i become too involved

who knows why

just help me feel right

okay

loved.

the seven hour day.

happening is the world

sitting is me

calves never rested

feeling bested

by a fly loping low to the ground

glazing over dusty wafts of stale air

and i am the dust

once again

beginning

middle

end

dusty

like an old diary,

or a mirror never used

a poster of a movie no one will remember

the sequel to a flop

monologue

voice over

feelings strangled

things to say

to make it through the day

feeling slightly more normal

in shorts taken over

by a body grown big

and wisdom to fill it

com-anger-loving-passion

have you ever spent father's day with someone who's father was taken away?

it makes me

angry

helpless

and unsure.

what i would do to let him be a son again, to have a father again. i cannot really tell you.

big smilez!

your teeth don't mean much, it's those eyes

you're not squinting that's no surprise

but please

honey

smile for me

white eyes.

for all we know, we are bad people lost in a sea of good, and everything is backwards, and the whole world might blow up in any second, and all i wanted yesterday was to fly fly fly away or just blink my eyes to reveal a clear new world. to be better. to wish my headache away. to lose myself in him, and not constantly question and wonder what life has in store for me. to let the unpredictable come predictable, and perhaps tell some stories with not funny, but happy endings to my children. if they are out there.

life was a blur, and i sit here, knowing that in a dusty old warehouse they think that i have jumped ship.

to sunburn.

to passion.

to pink eye.

to home.

red.

cheers.

what's good?

if you want, you could borrow reality for a day

and squander life away.