Aug 212020
 

like when you know you’re going to hit the car in front of you but can’t stop…foot on the brake pedal, brain waiting for the crunch…

stay in the present, stay here…even when your mind rushes back on that wave of song that takes you to those awkward days when you wore all black and hated yourself…

but didn’t you know you were beautiful? your soul was clean like a sunday afternoon. your heart was still full of wonder, believing in magic, the look on your face as if you’d just seen God…

and how did you find yourself, sweaty and anxious, mind full of chatter, telling you to, telling you to, until you heard that low calm voice saying no. no train delays today. no pieces on the tracks. no pissed off commuters. no white cloth covering the yes.

could have been a year ago or last month but walking that tightrope never really changes. you dive into colors now but that little black shirt is still in the drawer… it keeps you honest. and you have better balance now.

  One Response to “slow moving…”

  1. Wow. This is raw, and beautiful, and tragic.

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