I can lay all the mornings spent with him out in front of myself on the floor, all sun-streaked and rainy
my hair knots up in the back, I presume it battles with my pillow while I sleep
searching for home in the shallow depths of my coffee at the cafes I have haunted day after day
minutes, hours all ticking away on the little brass timepiece I bought from a street market in copenhagen
plane tickets and tubes of lipstick and books I’ve bought but haven’t read a word of
tears and tears and tears, it feels as if there is a black hole inside me, pulling me into oblivion
I don’t know where I am supposed to be or where I will be once I orbit the sun again, what is it to be only one year older
and then, the sound of a camera shutter closing and the smell of the perfume I still wear
“I wish I had a river I could skate away on”
around town, up and down streets made familiar by the years and through intersections and on avenues that I am a stranger to
staring in the mirror for hours wondering what kind of impression I leave on the people I will only ever know in passing
words and words and words, what will I do with my life? there is sugar spilt onto my saucer in sweet crystalline constellations
I’ll fall asleep at 11:20, and the world will softly shift while I dream
day one
The Joni Mitchell reference makes it perfect. Beautiful words
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