March 14, 2006


Tears streaming down my face mid-workout. Clowns to the left of me and jokers to the right streams outs of my lowly computer speakers. I lie back on the floor, continue tears, reach for paper and phone to write needy text messages and written words, as Tina isn’t missing you at all. I wish it were that easy that I could stop this heartbreak overload. The storm is raging through each night through my head and my dreams, where I find myself lost in my own home. Childhood smells of playground sand and plastic slides bring back memories of loneliness. When did this all start? Who let it continue? Or was I just that good at hiding it? Another reach, another call to no avail, no answer. A check up when what I really need is a check in or a check out. The salt is drying on my face. Back to nothing I go back to nothing hi ho!


Aaron said...

That's how I felt this morning when I had to get out of bed.

Doug said...

I have some experience with women and depression. Hiding it is one of the skills that go along.

Aaron said...

Sunday night Rio -- it's getting warmer out, at least here. Are things blooming over there?

finnegan said...

dark blue streams
deep indigo tears

broken reflections