timeandspaceand

[timeandspaceand]

fifteen years ago i would have cut it off but now i'm a hostage to the knowledge that it's more. femininity. power. the power i misuse to abuse myself of the notion that i deserve it.

i told him i was working on figuring out what to do about it. figuring out what to do about what, he asked, but by the time he asked the question he already knew the answer. in the day i'll talk myself out of the hollow depths of his eyes. in the night i'll compensate for my shortcomings, shirtless and breathless and sweating as i slip deeper into them.

they call her the gypsy and she believes it. in the hot summer days she dances through quicksand. she throws a fistful to the air and watches it shimmer in the sun. she nods as if it means something. it doesn't mean anything.

the judgment is clearer, closer with every day that passes. is this always the way that things end?

[timeandspaceand]

And none of it matters anymore, anyway.

[timeandspaceand]

But I didn't know.

Deep in the forest a still river gives life to the creatures that be. And when our feet carried us off the beaten path on a moonless night, they carried us to its bank.

Our voices were muted by the fog. We couldn't see past the next step in the darkness. We didn't want to anyway.

It was still and we were silent. You noticed him sighing softly near the river. He rose to his feet, the crescent-shaped whites of his nails black with dirt, the pile of soil at his bare feet, time pooling around him in a dark shroud.

Did you hear him then?

Now, years later, I could tell you. But it wouldn't do us any good.

[timeandspaceand]

“You know, when a person is very, very sad, they like sunsets.” “And were you very, very sad on the day you watched forty-four sunsets?” But the little prince did not reply.

[timeandspaceand]

Your fingers lightly swept across the strings and strummed the chord that always caught me sideways, whispering slowly through the silence. Tidings of falling leaves and listless eves spilled through the soft summer air, freed from the absent gaze of the stars. That's when I should have known.

[timeandspaceand]

And we listened - with half a mind and half an ear - as he played on hope and fear. We fell from desert sand to starry sky as he sang for passers by. But he spoke to us.

Time fell around us. Eventually we walked away. The bricks kept their secrets from the streetlamps and we followed their sudden silence. Down the road and past the church and to the corner where the lights cut out. If we spoke, we spoke softly, voices brushing against the starless sky to keep us safe. Our feet carried us into the darkness as the darkness crept up to our feet.

And finally into the house that felt like a home with friends and music and laughter, where everything was warm and gold. And maybe when someone was drunkenly accused of being a resident smartass you smiled a crooked smile and I met your eyes and we softly strummed the first law's string, remembering ourselves at last.

Any musician can tell a good story, after all. You and I would know.

[timeandspaceand]

#Youtube

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#Youtube

[timeandspaceand]

Credit: Sabrage Mulligrubs

[timeandspaceand]

11.2.23

We were loosed upon the world, a prime example of the first law. There was nowhere to go and nothing to be and all of it came so endlessly.

Maybe we thought we escaped the end of the things. Maybe we hoped we escaped the beginning of them. But the plans of the wise surmise that for every time there is a season.

The old man woke with eyes full of dust and scattered time from his outstretched hand. We found him singing on the side of the street.

He met our eyes. And waited.

"Do you want to hear a story?"

[timeandspaceand]

11.1.23

i listen close hold your words closer write them in my mind mull them over i speak from my heart and give good advice it's simple and true not a sacrifice i tip close and tip toe closer start to think about us getting older i think you'd make a really great dad you're cool and you're patient do you even get mad but i forgot to unlock my chest and look at the past along with the rest and i got lost in the cycle of time it ticks and it tocks and tells me, you're mine it's not like february it's not the 14th it's not a cut-out card or paper hearts or sweets it's four monster legs tangled in sheets and two pounding organs demanding release swore i'm not like her stop hitting yourself i'm not a fighter i'm just on the shelf that people reach for when time gets too old with us in your hand you'll never get cold we'll light you up from the inside keep you burning keep hope alive we never stop trying until it's too late my fire's dying wait is this fate look down at my hands fuck it, not crying drown them out accusations of trying if it happens, it happens so what will it be let's go to the casino and try it for free a crash course later and a game face on back to vodka sodas singing pokemon whoever slips up with the worst verse takes another one you go first and so on and so forth somebody knows in the words of kurt so it fucking goes or something like that you know what he said welcome to the monkey house and bergeron's dead