if i pocket my watch will you observe me this time?

i’m so numb and unwarm. rewinded completely but not restarted. the damage is there and it won’t be forgotten. recorded and reported, but i couldn’t. defend. myself. so i leave this post early. ascending the curtain pull then sitting there, Cheshire grin.  rescinding the invitation to knot three loops in the rites of root. don’t worry; it’ll take route.. i won’t be gardening til the point is superior moot.

i wrestle the voices back out of the cockpit to reclaim that gazebo on the patio for a peaceful sunning. i’m happy to be a woman adult. having outgrown infatuation for good (so i hope), yet not become an atheist.. not become a cynical cunt.  do keep in mind that this is a journal, no one reads such things, nonsense.  sentences broken, needn’t a heart to have the resemblance of emotions. reflections of words on a computer screen echo across to other empty beings to pretend that they exceed the meaning of serenity indeed.

i love my nights, i love my knights, i love my blights. i miss the butterflies and the mayflies alike.

i like to think that i’ll get what i want but i know there’s a lot stacked against me yet. i don’t really fret it anymore. i have to keep myself aware; though i’ve done so well, i clearly got careless.

at least jon knows, i fucking love you, jon. put up with me spouting about the fantastic winter night with a muse from the stars and sure, i can pat myself on the back, but i’m still a work in progress. i think i forgive me for revisiting that still, so i hope you do too. you’re the best.

bouncing back out of arizona to kansas today.

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