"with your feet on the air and your head on the ground" pixies
i have lost myself. i only realize it when i hear a song i haven't heard in a long time. and i remember who i was back then...
i am hard. i walk the littered blocks, past the thin strays and dog shit. past the always wanting hands for the dollar and a fix. and i want to not be.
i am breaking. over the bad blood, and fat bully. ever increasing age and grey hairs, muscle mass loss, and increasing palpitations.
~~~
i've left pieces all over the fucken place - back in philly, in brooklyn, and up north. there are atoms of me in florence and husavik, barcelona and inverness. they are roaming the streets of paris and amsterdam, stratford upon avon and avila.
and that girl was free - sitting in silent moments nestled in sunshine and foliage, hanging on in the rocking boat waiting for tail fins and getting lost in endless sea, riding through the canals under a full moon, wine glass in hand, light breeze saying hello to my face...
i am not me anymore. and this isn't evolution. i've snapped back like a turtle retreats into its shell...
i don't know who you are girl. don't know...