fuck the nighttime for being so dark and large and swallowing me whole as i walk next to him but not really at all. i listen to the soulless chatter and play out a thousand million different scenarios where i grab his pocketed hand, pull him back behind the others to talk. there's not enough time and not enough place and i already wasted enough of my evening sulking about this, from dark moviefilled living rooms to speeding cars to brightly lit diners. every few seconds i can see my hands in my lap and then the streetlight disappears behind us, throwing my subversive fingers into shadow.

she rubs my belly and tells me not to sob into my soaking fists. i walk back to my room and all i want is for him to be in my bed when i get there.

past future

last five entries:
blisters and bruises - 03.18.08
dorsey - 03.13.07
finding peace - 02.02.07
unintentional clean slate - 09.11.06
natural born cyborg - 06.23.06