brae falls low

it was a dream, i had trouble falling asleep it was too goddamn hot in my room. my sheet was crunkled bumped against the top left corner of the bed. the bed was too uncomfortable without it.

i woke, five six am, or maybe dreamt it all.

you had come into my window in the dead of night and pulled the sheet across me perfect and i slept oh-so-fucking well then and all was well all was going on and turning me inside out.

when i woke the sheeet was perfectly across me.

three days later you called. i hadn't heard your voice in two years. sleep well now.

everything has been in strange whispers since then.

it used to be that you were every word i ever wrote every ounce or drop of love that laid barren within me i was so dazzling when i thought about you. i'd have given the sun to save your soul a drop of sadness.

now. you're here. on the line. and i am wondering where all the color went from my face where all the depth went from my voice where all the crumbling things fell from and how i hadn't noticed it before.

i felt myself launched paralized from the shattered wreckage of the day before and the day before and pull myself onto my elbows gasping barely "i'm glad you called..."

2002-12-18 | 7:58 p.m.
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