my words

ten years ago i walked on a cloud built together by denial a haze of chemicals and second-yes's i was a shadow of my younger self ivory skinned and sullen giving way too much of my skin sipping down valiums with espresso lattes looking for the experience of a twirl in the backseat trying to paste it together into something i needed making nameless faceless bodies become something i'd write home about though somedays i ran around barefoot in the grass in your backyard at the house where my summer memories lay where i could breathe and remember without flinching and you still saw me as an angel i miss that house on arden drive how i could hide out on that big brown chair by the window sleep away regret and hangovers and loathing while you flipped the pages of the daily news listening to old radio shows rocking back and forth i think if i drove by i would still smell the tea and your peppermint breath still feel a sense of home and innocence be able to feel you around the pansies and the oak tree know that no matter what you saw you saw good in me *~june 26, 2000~*