scjoss
there once was a lady who lived in my building on the third floor, she had long hair that was steely grey and always seemed to be thinking. I could never be like her.
the love that we shared was for another time, because as his hair fell to the red and white checked floor I knew that he would never love again.
there was a bird on the bench in the park today. It was soft, it was warm, it was dead.
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sometimes I close my eyes and think that
I lay them out, king, queen, Jack, ace, all in their little houses, and watching them grinning back at me in their curious little ways I think that perhaps I too am in a game of solitaire.
sometimes I think i invented you, all your nuances and detached elegance.
writing since 2011 · 8 entries · 6 days shown up
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the words Stephanie reaches for
sometimeslovehairfloorcryingnightunconsciousdreamstoppickingfaultsmisssometimeinventpocketsadness