28 April 2012

Dreaming of square jawed bearded mickeys.
With gummi ears and teeth marks for days.
Wearing the marks of decision and indecision
questions impossible to answer with words.
But maybe with a scruff of the neck.
A bitten corner of the mouth.
A temporary reminder that we are in fact still alive
through the wreckage
and that we can still find through each other a reason to hold on.
Though we might let go.

Letting go for status quo.
Things we've known and people we can't let go of.
Done for the sake of change
change that is nothing more than
same old same old
falling into place 

with the people that we think we are
and are afraid to be.

I don't know what I want.
I don't even know that what I want is you.

But I hate having the carpet swept away
before I even had the chance to make up my mind.

This time was supposed to be my time (goonies)
though I gave all that time to you
to find
that maybe
you'd find
that you were a different person than you thought you were.

And hoping that maybe you would find yourself in me.

-from the desk of S.C. Browne