Yesterday Is Another World. I Want To

Deep Breaths. I Am Taking Deep Breaths. Composure. Which, For Me, Means Composing... Maybe This Is My Way Of Creating The Illusion Of Control Over Something I Have No Control Over. Like, If It's Just A Story I'm Telling Or A Song I'm Singing, Then I'll Be Okay Because I'm The Guy Who's Providing The Words.

To Love--to Fall--is Not A Question. To Touch--to Kiss--to Speak--those Are Questions.

There Is The Sudden. There Is The Eventual. And In Between, There Is The Living.

It Was A Mistake," You Said. But The Cruel Thing Was, It Felt Like The Mistake Was Mine, For Trusting You.

I'll See You Later, He Says, And As He Does, He Runs His Finger Briefly Over My Wrist. It Passes Over Me Like Air, And Makes Me Shiver Like A Kiss.