thin

holding on
trying
to remember
that "it"
exists
but living
in a sea
of endless
chatter
endless
schedules
endless
moments
of looking off
into space and
not knowing
what to think
wanting so
badly to be
somewhere
else, somewhere
safe and knowing
that this place
prevents it all
if i had control
for a moment
i'd be there
feeling
so fragile
and looking
for some
little
art
or
expression
that might
still
exist
that might
still be
that might
actually
exist
in this
and
finding
a way
out...

"You can be Henry Miller
and Ill be anais nin
Except this time itll be
even better, well stay
together in the end
Come on darlin,
lets go back to bed"
-morning song, J.Kilcher