Dear Harttz

Dreams… so many dreams. If only I could pack them and move. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps, get a storage space where I can hang all of these stars and close the door.

Every stroke is still so vivid, but empty while I try to make smudges of the faces, and then the bodies. I find myself forgetting the point and retracing the details with my fingernails, making creases and etching figures I meant to forget.

Do you remember when I imagined getting morning coffee together, as partners in a company, and coming in late?

Do you remember asking me if I’d take dancing lessons with you?

I feel like a spider in a web of broken feelings, frantically running up and down the strings, trying to tie them back together, trying not to shake the web so I can still eat, just to survive. But, I can’t do both – I can’t move without creating ripples. If I don’t move, then I feel every disturbance… the breeze of emotions that hang in the air. If I do move, then I feel less… that seems like it might be better, but then I probably won’t catch anything at all.

Posted Monday, July 25th, 2011 under Uncategorized.

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