i cannot spew achoos with the rhythmic kept blues that once rolled off my tongue, no no sweet pea, not anymore. for a sticky oatmeal paste left a residue quite untrue inside this mouth of mine. yes it's hard to swallow - hard to taste the truism of sobriety nowadays. it sings back to me, stuck in my throat, hard to swallow, hard to grasp, hard to get out . . .
i'm ready to fade like the staes we dreamt of in my car. baby, i'm missing the oxies and roxies (ya know, the blues - - not you)

&& i'm not sorry. . .
i've got a case of the dope fiend blues - sometimes yr pantone 292 hair too
oh my junkie love i'm stuck in the heroin hotel ... yet i'm learning to enjoy every minute of it
--
DO NOT RETAIN THIS IN YR BRAIN

prior to the dream of my silenced screams you said you were gouing to leave ! the building went into flames as i sat in the dungeon of a cave with an unfamiliar hand clasping at my face - mouth, technically. inmy dream you were someone who i did not want to leave, not just yet.
STRANGE
CONCEPTS
ARISE
?
CONFUSION EMERGES
in these day dreams

on the seventeenth i fell in love with a bag, both on my first time & on my six month anniversary. i dreamt of the bag, the taste, the bitter residue in back of my mouth
---

18th
& the best kisses ever drove in from lebanon, wrapped in a purple sleeve singing of lifes non existences. and i sang a song back at you regarding a bad decision or two. and yes its true, u come in around the moon with bright eyes lighting up the room...quieting the defeaning broken dreams in my life...yr bringing me coffees so sweet and declicious and sneaking into my room - hey lets cause some mischief so ive got these problems to sort but if you sneak on in ill fix those later & let my hands crawl into yrs and
--
i find myself learning to love in the most pecuilar ways - but mostly when it is not fashionable to love. when love is prohibited, yet still in secrecy encouraged. when yr heart beats to the rhythm of the drums and my legs the drum set and yr hands are the sticks . when the weathers too cool for thelake but not warm enough for yr oversized grey jacket. its becoming evident from the lock in our eyes when they meet. i worry i cannot wear this poker face much longer. i worry because i never want to spend another day without someone so nice in my life. i have never fully felt this way until this point in time. CUE the orchestra...

There is a tiny orchestra singing in an unexplored language floating in between my ears. I am the conductor and yr learning these vowels an sounds with me. yr teaching the conductor the correct rhythm and timing...letting this conductor set the pace.theres an audience watching - theyve all seemed to approve

this is the first time soer i can just 'be'. i felt similar to this once, when young, but never quite so heightened level. romanticism is frightened in between he notes playing. her trying to hide it all ... to save myself...but yet...i still do not fully want to.

you taught me how to explore words again , through new eyes. words again, through new vowels. yr teaching me how to draw again, with improved fingers
im forever changed in the most beautiful way but but but
its all too pretty an real to ever last, please just let it last, oh please let me be ready to leave when the inevitable comes.
most kind gentle human to ever cross my path - enterntally thankful for hat

youve taught a spun out junkie a new way to see life, htank u for helping me open these eyes
i hope this life of happiness continues when we go our seperate paths