when we fell in love
it was all scraped knees
and make-believe.
behind your shed, in the woods
we made bows and arrows
that left holes in the siding.
but we didn't call it love
-we only called it blood-
as we fought with fists
throwing backpacks down
on cracked, uneven pavement.
....
some unfinished lines rolling around in my mind.
i'm out of focus today - grasping at fragmented streams of consciousness, unsure where to begin. last night i laid awake, constructing worst-case scenarios for a wedding, for a christmas play, for a life left direction-less. i never knew i could be such a silly worrier. all these parallel lines run rampant, and all i want is an intersection. there i would throw my car into park, stick my flag in the dirt, and call it home.
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